


Sweet Silver Bells

by BossToaster (ChaoticReactions)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ....Mostly, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Seriously this is probably the most cavity inducing thing I will ever write for this fandom, Ugly Holiday Sweaters, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-08 09:37:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8839597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaoticReactions/pseuds/BossToaster
Summary: 12 13 Days of Voltron Christmas: An advent calendar of requests.  Because I can't count.8) Allura, Shiro and Matt share holiday memories9) The crew makes their own Christmas ornaments for their tree.10) Discussion of the Black Bayard11) Hunk organizes a Secret Santa12) Lance tracks down a party13) Lance reviews his gifts for the others.





	1. Be Good for Goodness Sake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For BucketofBarnes

“Hunk,” Lance hissed through his teeth.  “Hunk!”

Glancing over, Hunk tilted his head.  The hat he was trying on had a long, floppy brim that slid down past his eyes from the movement, and he yanked it off.  “Yeah?”

Lance looked around, making sure no one was paying attention to them, and then gestured for Hunk to come closer.  Hunk twisted his lips and narrowed his eyes in open suspicion.  In response, Lance pouted and made the gesture again, more exaggerated.   _ Get over here. _

_ Fine, fine, _ said the shake of Hunk’s head.  He finally moved over and stood next to Lance, looking down at the display.  It was full of shiny baubles and decorations.  “I don’t get it.”

With another quick glance over Hunk’s shoulder, Lance wrapped an arm around Hunk’s neck.  “What month is it on Earth?”

Brow furrowed, Hunk quickly thought it over, and Lance could practically see him doing the calculations.  “Uh, it should be... a couple of weeks into December, right?”  Then it hit him.  “Oh!  It’s almost-”

“Shhh!”  Lance held up a hand to stop Hunk before he said it.  “Yes.   _ That. _  And we’re horribly unprepared.  So I was thinking about it, and I was thinking we should get stuff now but... I dunno, Pidge and Keith have stuff they like.  What does  _ Shiro _ like?”

Hunk paused, frowning.  “Well he... huh.  I mean, flying, I guess.  There’s not been a lot of opportunity for indulging that kind of thing, especially considering.”  Picking his head up, Hunk looked around, then waved.  “Hey, Keith!”

“What?  No!  C’mon, this was gunna be from us.”  Lance pouted but didn’t raise more of a fuss as Hunk waved Keith over.

Glancing between Hunk’s friendly grin and Lance’s scowl, Keith frowned back nervously.  “Yeah?”

“You’ve known Shiro for a long time, right?” Hunk asked.  Keith nodded.  “What do you normally get him for Christmas?”

Keith tilted his head.  “Nothing.”  At their surprised looks, he shrugged.  “We didn’t do Christmas.”

Eyes wide, Lance stared at Keith like he’d said he enjoyed kicking puppies.  “Why not?”

Keith meet Lance’s eyes, one brow slowly rising.  “It’s kind of a family holiday.”

Slumping, Lance bit his bottom lip.  “Oh.”  He glanced back at Hunk, and they shared a look.  “Shoot.  So should we not do this, or...?”

“Well,” Keith murmured, glancing between them both.  “If you want to get him a present, I don’t think he’d be offended or anything.”  He shook his head dryly.  “I’m not sure I’ve seen anyone so disappointed not to get someone a present.”

Lance buffed his fingers on his shirt.  “That’s ‘cause we’re the best gift givers ever, and we like to practice our craft.”  He held up his hand, and Hunk high-fived it without looking.

“Right,” Keith drawled back.  “Why’d you need me, then?”

Hunk shrugged.  “You know Shiro better.  We don’t know about his hobbies or stuff he used to do in his free time.”

Pausing, Keith thought about it.  “Um.  He read a lot, or did a lot of practice flying.”  Frowning, he glanced around the store.  

Crinkling his nose, Lance glanced back at Shiro, making sure he was still involved haggling with the shop owner.  “I’m not sure we’ll find much of that in this place.  So what else-”

“What are you guys up to?”

All three jumped and turned to look at Pidge, who frowned right back. 

Hunk held up a finger and glanced at Shiro, but he hadn’t noticed the minor commotion.  “Shh!  Don’t be so loud.”

One brow raising, Pidge crossed her arms.  “Okay, now it’s officially suspicious.”

“They’re trying to figure out a Christmas present,” Keith told her, without any attempt to lower his tone.

Lance scowled.  “Shhh!  Both of you!”

Finally, all the hissing seemed to catch Shiro’s attention.  Glancing over, he frowned.  “Something wrong?”

“Nothing!” Hunk called, voice slightly strangled.  “Just trying to keep it down this time.”

Shiro gave them a strange look but nodded slowly.  Then the shop keeper made some sort of comment and Shiro focused in on him again, scowling.

Well, at least he was distracted.

Pidge’s eyes had gone wide.  “It’s almost Christmas?  It’s been that long.”  She frowned, hands sliding into her pocket.  “Oh.”

Reaching out, Hunk wrapped an arm around her shoulders, loose enough that she could shake it off.  But Pidge didn’t, instead leaning into the touch just slightly.

“You might need to try somewhere else,” Keith pointed out.  

“We still don’t know what we’re looking for,” Lance shot back.  “Since you weren’t helpful.”

Snorting, Keith rolled his eyes. “Give him something to be competitive over.  He’ll be happy.”

“Like a game?” Hunk asked.  “Actually, that’d be good.  Something repeatable to pass the time.”

Pidge nodded thoughtfully.  “Matt made special copies of a bunch of games to bring on the Kerberos mission,” she admitted, voice quiet.  “I thought he was just thinking he’d be bored, but if Shiro likes those, it’d make more sense.”

Suddenly, Lance lit up and he waved a hand.  “Well, we don’t need to buy that.  We can make one!”

“You think so?” Hunk asked, nose crinkling.  “It’s not like you just... make them up in an evening.  There’s testing and balance and stuff, right?”

Keith shrugged. “You can just remake stuff from Earth,” he pointed out.  “Change the name or whatever.”

“Plagiarism?” Pidge drawled.  “Merry Christmas.”

“Who’s gunna sue us in space?”

Hunk snorted.  “He’s got a point.  That’s not a bad idea, Lance.  And if we’re doing that, we can make a bunch, too.”

Beaming, Lance rocked back on his heels.  “Of course it’s a good idea, it was mine.”

Pidge leaned closer to Keith. “Should I even say it?”

“We only have a few minutes.  You probably shouldn’t get started.”

Lance scowled at them both. “Sounds like someone doesn’t want to be part of the group present.”

Expression twisting, Pidge sighed.  “Sorry, sorry.”

“You four done?”

All of them jolted and whirled to look at Shiro, who was carrying several bags full of supplies.  One brow was up in open suspicion.

Lance beamed at him.  “Yup!  All ready?”

Nodding slowly, Shiro frowned at him.  “Yes.  Something wrong?”

“Nope, just planning a project,” Hunk replied cheerily.  “We’re good to head back if you are.”

Shiro eyed them, but he gave a nod.  “Alright.  Well, let’s go, then.”  And with a last glance over the group, he headed down the road toward where they’d left the castle.

“You know,” Keith mused.  “We should point out the date to Shiro.  He won’t like not getting to return the favor.”

Lance tilted his head, watching Shiro’s back.  “You know, he worries about enough.  I think this time we can just do something nice for him.”  

Following Lance’s gaze, Pidge nodded.  “Yeah, agreed.”   Then she grinned.  “And it means we get to tell Allura and Coran about Christmas.  And whatever we say, they won’t know otherwise.”

She and Lance shared toothy grins.

“I think I regret this,” Hunk mused, watching them.

“I definitely regret this,” Keith muttered back.

Neither of them really did.


	2. When Loved Ones are Near

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Niffty24
> 
> Can be read as gen or pre-slash

“Keith?”

Starting, Keith spun on his heel.  He hadn’t expected anyone to be in the lounge today, much less someone who knew him.

Shiro stood in the doorway, his brows up in surprise.  Unlike everyone else Keith had seen that day, he wasn’t dressed to travel.  He was still in his cadet uniform, and he completely lacked luggage or even a coat.

“Hey,” Keith replied, shifting awkwardly.  “I thought I’d be alone.”

Frankly, he still wasn’t really sure what to  _ do _ with Shiro.  Keith’s instructors were fond of having Shiro pair up with him and teach him the ropes, which made sense.  Both were at the top of their respective classes, after all, and Shiro was their Golden Boy.  Squeaky clean and quick with a ‘yes, sir!’ and a salute, never a hair out of place.

Keith had been prepared to hate him, honestly, up until they actually talked.  And Shiro had seemed to  _ care _ , for some reason.  He’d given Keith advice for his classes and talked him through concepts on his next tests.  And once the instructors were gone, Shiro had been candid, not hiding his opinions on the upper brass, good or otherwise.

And now he was here instead of home, like everyone else.

Keith wondered if it was for the same reasons that he was.

Frowning, Shiro glanced around the room.  “I did too,” he admitted.  “If you were looking for alone time, I can find somewhere else.”

For a moment, Keith considered saying yes.  He’d been prepared for an afternoon to himself, reading and ignoring the assignments already due for the first day of next semester.

But Shiro... Shiro was alright.

And he was here.  So he probably got it, which made him tolerable.

“You can stay,” Keith replied, and he settled in on the couch.  “I’m just surprised, that’s all.  Family too far away?”  Despite the lack of accent, with a name like ‘Takashi Shirogane’ is was pretty clear where his family was from.

But Shiro stepped in and shook his head.  “No.  Just that no one would be there anyway.  My Aunt and Uncle don’t celebrate.  And even so, I might stay here.  It’s not much of a break when I have so much homework to do.”  Shiro offered a grin, tone light and airy.  Deflecting.

Keith knew that tone.  It was the one he wanted to be able to use, but never seemed to quite master.

Maybe there were other things Keith could learn from Shiro.

He expected a return of the question, but instead Shiro just sat down in a chair.  “How’d you do on Jameson’s final?”

Keith groaned, which made Shiro laugh.  “Okay.”

“Okay’s not bad, but it’s not great,” Shiro pointed out, lips curled up.

Snorting, Keith stared back.  “Thank you for the definition of ‘okay’.”

Rather than get offended, Shiro laughed, hand coming up to cover his mouth.  “Sorry, sorry.  Just trying to get more details out of you.  I can stop.”  Then he gave Keith a sly look.  “I bombed it, actually.”

“Really?”  Keith perked.   _ Shirogane _ had done badly on that final?

Shiro shrugged.  “Well, depends on your definition.  I only scraped out a C with extra credit.  But they make him grade on a curve, because otherwise he’d fail everyone, so if you did about there you’ll do fine.”

Still staring, Keith slowly relaxed.  “I think I did about the same.  And he said he won’t curve.”

That only made Shiro snort.  “He said the same thing to us.  I think it’s just to scare you.”

Keith let out a deep sigh and relaxed back on the couch.  “Good.  I was...”  He trailed off and looked away.

But when he finally glanced back, Shiro was watching him sympathetically.  “No, you won’t lose out because of Jameson.  No one would get to be a pilot if that was the case.  And I went through all that material with you.  You’re more than competent.  You’re staying.”

How did he  _ do _ that?  Just... know what people were thinking?

But a look at his face proved that Shiro wasn’t just guessing.  He  _ knew. _

And that meant a lot, actually.

Keith nodded and gave a small but real smile.  “Thanks.”

Blinking, Shiro suddenly beamed at him.  “You’re welcome.  And, look, I got you to relax after finals.”

Keith tensed right back up.  “Was that your goal?”

“It turned into it, yeah,” Shiro replied, watching him fondly.  “I just... I get it, you know?  They’re all pressuring you and making you feel like you have to be perfectly perfect every moment, or else they’ll drop you and you’ll lose everything.  And what they want is impossible but you’ve got to at least fake that you can do it.”

Curling up tighter, Keith nodded.

“Fuck ‘em,” Shiro told him, and the bland curse and the sentiment were both so unexpected that Keith jumped. “I’m serious.  They want something that’s not fair from you.  So you give them the exact letter of what they ask for and not a penny more.  And then you be human the rest of the time.  It’s all you can do.”  He shrugged.  “Want me to show you how?”

Keith considered Shiro for a moment.  Then he nodded.

Grinning, Shiro stood, and he dug something out of his bag.  “See, the fun thing about all that?  If you’re good to their faces and bite your lip, they think they can trust you.  So I have a key to the hoverbike bay.  Normally I wouldn’t go in at this time of day since it’s busy, but today it’ll be dead.  So we can go for a ride, if you want.”

“Won’t the camera’s see?” Keith asked, even as he stood up and grinned.

Shiro only shrugged.  “So?  They don’t know why we have it.  If they ask, I was taking it out to the fields to show you a building exercise.  And I do that a lot anyway, so they’ll believe me.  Actually, I recommend it another time, since you fly better when you really know what’s going on inside.  But for now, let’s do what we came here to do.”

Beaming, Keith followed after him.

He’d been prepared to hate Shiro, but now Keith thought he might actually like the guy.

Weird.

***

Later, after they were windswept and flushed, Shiro turned to Keith.  “You should come to the Senior dorms on Christmas.”

Keith frowned at him, more confused than bothered.  “Why?”

“Because the people left are going to be all about songs and decorating and all that crap, and I’d rather not.  So we can hide out, watch a movie that has nothing to do with Christmas and pretend it’s just a normal day.” Shiro offered him a smile.

Chest warm, Keith returned it.  “Yeah.  That’d be good.”

Okay, he definitely liked Shiro.

Somehow, Keith was fine with that.


	3. Beginning to Look a lot like Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For an Anon

“It doesn’t feel like the holidays without sweaters,” Pidge mused one dinner.

The conversation had originally come up during a conversation about gift giving holidays.  Originally, Lance had wondered if some of them were technically older than they thought, since birthdays might have passed, then transitioned into ribbing people about the gifts they hadn’t given.  Alteans, comparatively tended not to count each individual rotation around the sun, but instead held periodic celebrations for certain milestones. Those ceremonies tended to be private, family affairs rather than a party, and it turned out that Alteans tended to favor community festivals over get-togethers.

And that had led to the reminder that a lot of time had passed on Earth since they left.

In fact, when they checked, it had been the better part of a year, and it was nearly Christmas.

Which was more depressing than a cause for celebration.  For multiple reasons.

Hunk shrugged.  “It was never really cold enough for sweaters for us,” he admitted.  “But my family would do the really tacky holiday ones for a day.”

Nose crinkled, Keith shuddered.  “Why?”

“Cause it’s fun,” Lance replied, eyeing Keith.  “You remember what that is, right?”

Shiro pointed his spoon at Lance.  “Don’t start.”

Crossing his arms, Lance pouted, but he did nod to Keith.  “Seriously, it’s just funny.  My sister used to get me one every year.  I still have them all at home.”  His eyes went distant and he noticeably deflated.

There was a beat of silence, as everyone else remembered what - and who - they’d left behind.

“Well,” Coran mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully.  “I can’t say there will be many of your holiday sweaters, but I’m sure you can find something similar.  There’s not a lack of large, thick-materialed shirts in the universe, you know.”

Shiro offered him a smile.  “I’m not sure it’s the same, but thank you.”  Then he leaned back in his chair.  “Some of those things get ridiculous.  Matt snuck one on board and-” He froze, realizing what he was talking about in front of who.

But rather than look upset, Pidge beamed.  “He got it on?  Yes!”

“Oh, god, you knew?” Shiro groaned, but his lips were pulled up.  “It had tinsel.  In zero grav.  And it  _ shed _ . _ ” _

Pidge burst into laughter.  “We didn’t think about that when we made it.  Oops?”

This time, Shiro pointed his spoon at Pidge, scowling playfully.  “The cabin was full of tiny green plastic strands for days because of you two.”

“I regret nothing.”

Shiro sighed.  “That’s what he said.”

“That’s what she said,” Lance muttered, and the other four paladins all groaned.

Allura regarded them all like a wild creature she’d never encountered before.  “You can make these?”

Nodding, Hulk shrugged.  “With a base sweater and some supplies, sure.”

“I’d like to see one,” she admitted.  “Because none of what you’re saying makes any sense.”  Next to her, Coran nodded in confused agreement.

Lance considered.  “I think we could make a few.  Maybe everyone makes their own?  We’ll show you guys how to do it, it’s basically just gluing half the time.”

“Contest,” Pidge breathed, eyes wide and grin toothy.  “We’ll make it a contest.”

Sighing, Keith scrubbed over his face.  “We’re all going to go blind.”

Hunk just beamed.  “It’s part of the fun!”

“Bleeding from the eyes is fun?”

“Yes,” Hunk, Pidge and Lance all shot back.

Turning to Shiro, Lance stuck out his bottom lip and fluttered his lashes.  “Please?.”

Shiro only eyed him back.  “As if you’d listen if I said no.”

“Yeah, true,”  Lance nodded agreeably and took a sip of his drink, as though that settled that.

Allura eyed Shiro.  “I feel like I started more than I meant to.”

He arched a brow back.  “Oh, yes.”

***

“Are you really planning on doing this?” Keith asked, watching Shiro work.

Shrugging, Shiro narrowed his eyes as he carefully glued on glittery snowflakes.  “Sure.  It’s putting everyone in a good mood.”

Keith snorted.  “You’re not Christian.”

“Neither is Pidge.  Well, I assume, since her father and brother aren’t.  I’m not sure about Lance and Hunk.”  Shiro’s brows rose.  “It’s not about that.  Which you know.”

“Yeah,” Keith agreed, sitting down.  “I just don’t think I get it.”

Shiro hummed and finally sat up, scratching his cheek.  It left a trail of glitter behind.  “It’s just being silly.  And it takes something people are normally annoyed by, like the kitchy look, and turns it into a different way of enjoying the season.”  Brows up, Shiro shrugged.  “Mostly, I expected morale to start plummeting soon, and this seems to have kept it up.”

That made Keith snort.  “Please.  You did it because it makes them happy.”

“That’s what that means.”

Sitting down heavily in one of the chairs, Keith frowned at the sweater Shiro was working on.  “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted.  “And it sucks that I’m as clueless as the literal aliens.”

Shiro considered them.  “Well, I can help, if you want.  But honestly, I’m not sure either.  None of us are being exact, anyway.  It’s approximations and almosts, and there aren’t really rules to begin with.  So, you know, either you can ask for help, or you can fake it.  I doubt anyone would notice.”

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Keith finally nodded.  “Okay.  Maybe I’ll talk to Pidge or Hunk.”  Then he watched Shiro as he industriously went back to work.  “It’s nice to remember there’s things you suck at,” he commented, watching Shiro nearly glue his metal fingers to the sweater.

Shiro glanced up at him. “You planning on sitting there and commenting the whole time?”

“Sure.”

Rolling his eyes, Shiro shook his head.  But he didn’t object.

***

“Sweater time!” Lance announced into the intercom, grinning widely.  “Bring your worst and prepare to  _ lose _ .”

Shiro snorted as he stepped in the room, already wearing his.  “I don’t think anyone forgot.  You reminded them last night and this morning.”

“Can’t be too careful,” Lance returned, shrugging.  It made the army of bells attached to his chest and arm jingle.  He’d dug up some atrocity of a shirt with painfully bright blues and greens, and then covered the entire thing in white bells and ribbons. 

Which made Lance pretty sure meant he was going to  _ win. _

And Shiro... Shiro was not.

Flapping a hand at him, Lance scowled.  “What the hell is this?”

Shiro frowned, then looked down.  “What?”

He’d found a very dark purple sweatshirt and decorated it with small white snowflakes.  Under it was a layer of glitter swirling through the sky like the milky way.

It wasn’t exactly understated, like Shiro’s usual attire, but it wasn’t really  _ ugly. _

“Do you even know what it is to not look pretty all the time?” Lance huffed, crossing his arms.  “How dare you make a mockery of this tradition.”

Shiro stared at him.  “It’s glittery?”

“You lose.  Sit down.”

Pulling out his seat, Shiro did, looking distinctly pouty about the whole thing.

Pidge stuck her head in.  “Shiro lost already?  Are you qualified to make that statement?”

“I am when he sucks at this,” Lance shot back.  “Look!”

Stepping in fully, Pidge looked over Shiro’s shoulder than snorted.  “Yeah, wow.  Not much effort, huh?  Did you get busy?”

Shiro scowled at her.  “You know, neither of you have to be- goddammit!”

Somehow, Pidge had managed to make her sleeves entirely out of something not unlike tinsel.  The rest of her sweater was designed to look like a decorated Christmas tree, complete with blinking colored lights.

“You like it?”  The corner of her lip curled up mischievously as she patted Shiro’s shoulder, ‘accidentally’ brushing his neck with the tinsel.

Pulling away, Shiro covered his mouth like the bits would spontaneously fly off and choke him. “I may never speak to you again.”

Pidge only beamed and sat down across from him.  “It’s festive, right?”

“I hope it gets in your food.”

Lance snickered.  “The lights were a nice touch.”

Gesturing to him, Pidge nodded.  “Thank you!  See, someone appreciates all my hard work.”

Shiro refused to look up, even when Allura and Coran came in next.  Allura seemed to have mostly gone for color, like Lance, but had elected not to create any additional adornments.  So minus points for lack of holiday spirit, but not many since she had no actual context.  Plus points for being such a violent shade of orange it could have served as a warning for radioactivity.

Coran’s on the other hand...

His was a normal sweater, except for the truly gigantic red and green mustache on the front.

Frankly, Allura looked put out by how outclassed she’d been.  She sat down next to Shiro and looked around.  “I really didn’t realize the depths of the competition.”  But then she looked at Shiro’s and relaxed, apparently pleased she’d beating at least one person.

Shiro scowled harder.

“Oh my god, Coran,” Pidge breathed, eyes wide.  “That’s amazing!”

Grinning back, Coran nodded.  “Lance helped me, but I added a few things myself.  Watch!”  He widened his stance and then flexed his arms dramatically.

The mustache waved from side to side and played a cheerful jingle.

Lance burst into laughter, nearly falling out of his chair from the strength of it, and Pidge looked a little like she wanted to try and steal it for herself.

“What the hell?” Keith muttered, stepping into the doorway.  He was wearing a plain red turtleneck.  

Coran puffed out his chest.  “Behold the winner.”  He turned to show Keith the front.

Mouth hanging open, Keith stared.  Then he burst into laughter too. “How did you- oh,  _ man.” _

Shiro’s pout finally softened, and he craned his neck back to smile at Keith losing it.  Coran walked slowly toward Keith, and with every step it made him crack up harder, until he was gasping for breath.

“Wait, seriously, Keith?  Just that sweater?” Lance called.  “Okay, someone lost to Shiro, that’s impressive.”

Pidge only snickered.  “Wait for it.”

Glaring back at Lance, Keith caught his breath, shielding his eyes from Coran to avoid bursting out laughing again.  Then he pulled out a remote and pressed a button.

The front of it lit up with the words ‘Go Ho Ho Away’.  The words twinkled merrily, along with another line of lights along the collar.

Lance slowly sat back down.  “Oh.  Nevermind.  Damn, that’s actually brilliant.”

“He came up with it, I just helped him rig the lights,” Pidge replied smugly, crossing her arms.  It sent tinsel scattering over the table, and Shiro used his napkin to sweep it away from himself.  He’d eaten plenty of tinsel on accident for one lifetime, thank you very much.

Allura frowned, looking back and forth between Keith and Coran.  “I’m not sure how we’re supposed to decide a winner.”

“Wait, we haven’t seen Hunk’s yet,” Lance replied, lips curled up.  “It’s not fair to start, yet.”  Cupping his hands over his mouth, Lance took a deep breath.  “Hunk!  You ready?”

There was a bang in response.  “Lemme just finish- there!  Okay, yeah.”  And then, after a few minutes of shuffling, Hunk emerged.

His sweater was  _ huge, _ fluffy, and bright white.  It was made of some kind of furry material the glimmered like snow in the lights.  The sleeves turned into gloves at the bottom, and when he hend up a hand to wave, it showed off the toe pads stitched on.

He looked like the abominable snowman come to life.

“Oh, man, Coran.  And Keith!  I thought I had this in the bag, darn.”  Hunk sighed.

Pidge’s eyes went wide.  “Hunk.  You’re  _ so fluffy.” _

Grinning back, Hunk nodded.  “Yup.  Wanna see?”  Stepping over, he enveloped her in a hug.  The white fluff nearly swallowed Pidge completely, including the tinsel.

“It’s so soft,” Pidge breathed, muffled from the fabric.  “I want to live here.”

Pulling back, Hunk held out his arms.  “Any other takers?”

Lance waved his hand wildly.  “Me!”

Hunk hugged him next, then went around the table, getting Allura and Shiro, before finally hugging Coran and Keith as well.

“I like yours,” Keith told him.  “But I don’t think it’s that ugly, actually.  Just big.”

Pidge nodded reluctantly.  “He’s got a point.”

Sighing, Hunk pouted.  “But it gives the best hugs.”

“It’s the best sweater,” Shiro soothed.  “But just not the ugliest one.”

That didn’t do much for Hunk’s disappointment, but he settled down anyway.

“Can I concede?” Keith asked.  “I like mine, but I can’t even look at Coran’s.”

Considering, Lance nodded.  “Yeah, fair enough.  I think Coran was going to win anyway.  It was an actually good effort, though, I’m impressed.”

Keith’s lips thinned.  “Thanks.  I think.”

Flexing again, Coran beamed.  “It’s all thanks to superior Altean engineering.”

“You know, I’d argue with that, but today you win.”  Hunk sighed.  “Can I get a hand with the food?  The fur keeps almost getting in and I don’t want to ruin dinner.”

“I’ll help,” Shiro offered, and between the two of them and the floating serving plates, they managed to get everything out without making it inedible.

Once it was out, Shiro turned to Keith, brows up.  “Get it now?” He asked, voice soft and warm.

Glancing around the table full of arguing, cheer, and truly hideous sweaters, Keith nodded.  

“Yeah, I think I do.”


	4. And Since We've No Place to Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Headspacedad

Shiro was missing.

Which was a serious shame, because the hot drinks being served were probably up his alley, considering how Shiro felt about powdered hot cocoa mix.  

Leaning over, Lance nudged Hunk’s shoulder.  “Did you see where Shiro got to?”

Hunk glanced around, then frowned.  “No, I didn’t even realize he’d left.  You think...?”

“Nah,” Lance denied, eyeing the locals.  After taking down some Galra satellites nearby that kept a close eye on their trade and planet, the locals had been eager to welcome the team and offer them a meal.  Maybe there was something up, but Lance doubted it.  Especially since the aliens were fluffy and about three feet tall.  If he was that bothered, Shiro probably could punt one across the room.  

Looking at the aliens, Hunk nodded in slightly reluctant agreement.  They’d been fooled before, but probably not.  “Want me to ask the others?”

That Lance considered, but he shook his head.  “I’ll take a quick look around.  If I’m not back in 15, go ahead and tell Keith and Pidge.  But they’re more likely to take it  _ seriously. _  For all we know he went to the bathroom.”

“Alright,” Hunk agreed, tapping his armor’s wrist to show the display.  “You’ve got fifteen.”

Lance clapped his shoulder.  “Thanks.”  Then he stood up and slipped out to the big double doors, bringing his mug and an extra.

It didn’t take long to find Shiro.  The room next to the ballroom was smaller, and full of floor-to-ceiling windows.  It had plenty of seating, and Shiro had settled on a bench that faced the outside wall.  If it hadn’t been for all the white on the armor, Lance probably would have missed him in the dark.

“Hey,” he greeted, stepping in.  “You okay?”

Shiro glanced up and blinked, then nodded.  “Hmm?  Oh, yeah.  Sorry, time might have gotten away from me.  I just wanted to see.”  Then he went back to looking at the window.

Following his gaze, Lance noticed that the ground was paler than it had been when they’d come in, and in the light from the building, Lance could just barely see something falling.

Snow.  Cool.

Lance sat next to Shiro and handed him a mug.  “You were gone when they were handing this out.  It’s pretty good.  Sweet.”

“Thanks,” Shiro murmured, shooting him a quick glance and a smile.  He took the drink but didn’t sip, just holding it in his hands.

After a moment of silence, Lance started to shift.  “Am I interrupting?  I can go, if you want.”

Shiro started, then finally looked at him properly.  “Oh, no!  No, it’s fine.  I just... it’s been a long time.”

It took Lance a moment to realize what Shiro meant.  Then he realized Shiro was talking about the snow.

This was the first he’d seen since being captured, probably.

“Oh,” Lance murmured.  He watched as well for a moment, appreciating the snow in that context.  But in the dark there wasn’t much he could see, and snow had never been something he spent a lot of time around, anyway, so it wasn’t something he missed in the same way.  But he imagined after a year and a half out here, well...

Finally taking a sip, Shiro hummed in appreciation.  “Oh, this is good.  Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Lance murmured back.  Then he watched Shiro rather than the window.  He looked calm, and more settled than Lance was used to seeing.  “When was the last time?  If you don’t mind saying.”

Shiro snorted.  “Other than Kerberos?”  He shot Lance a smile.  “Years.  Over a decade, actually.  I was... 9, I think, the last time.”

That was longer than Lance had expected.  “You weren’t kidding about it having been awhile.”

Chuckling, Shiro shook his head.  “Nope.  I never kid.”  His expression turned stern as he took another sip, but then he cracked and smiled again.  “I just... I could smell it when we were walking in.  I didn’t even know I knew the scent.  So I wanted to watch.  But I should probably head back.”

“Nah,” Lance replied.  “Everyone’s just chatting anyway, nothing important.  If you want to take a bit, no harm done.”  Then he paused.  “Snow has a smell?”

Shiro considered, brow furrowed.  “I guess it’s just a cold smell?  I couldn’t tell you.  Didn’t get much chance to test that in LA.”  He shrugged.  “It was more interesting before the sunset, though.  Mostly I just got lost in thought.”

Huh.  Well, Lance had learned something new today.  Maybe they’d get a chance to put it to practice.

For a moment, Lance wondered if Keith knew that Shiro had grown up in LA.  He probably did.  Shiro might not always have been so tight-lipped about his time before the Garrison, after all.  Still, it was nice to know something like that about Shiro.  Just Lance.

Tilting sideways, Lance pressed his shoulder to Shiro’s.  After a few moments, Shiro leaned in as well, an answering pressure.

Neither spoke for a while, as they watched the snow fall.

Then there was a crash from the hallway.  “You should have told us immediately!” Pidge said, sounding distinctly upset.

“Lance said to give him fifteen minutes,” Hunk protested.

Keith scoffed.  “Shiro disappears and we’re supposed to just wait around?”

“We didn’t know-”

Groaning, Lance stood.  “Shit, I forgot about- we’re in here!”  The commotion paused, then the other three pressed into the doorway.  “Is that- put your damn sword away!  Damn, it was peaceful until you all showed up.”

“What happened?” Hunk asked, frowning.  “Why didn’t you come back?”

Shiro chuckled and stood.  “My fault, I distracted him.  Sorry to worry you all, I just needed air.”  Then he eyed Keith.  “I don’t think we need weapons for this.”

Reverting his bayard with a scowl, Keith shrugged.  “We didn’t know what happened.”

Shiro just sighed and shooed them all away from the door so he and Lance could pass, then started for the door.  Already, he was smiling and deflecting questions, apologizing for worrying them.  Then he herded everyone back to the room without actually answering what he’d been doing.

Lance paused in the doorway and gave a last look back at the dark windows.  He felt a little removed from reality, somehow, like he was still stuck in that quiet moment.

But then he smiled and slipped back into the ballroom, sipping his drink.

Because Lance knew what moment he’d remember from tonight, years later.

Well, that and the drinks.  Because this stuff was really, really good.


	5. And the Joker Ran Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For SpiderDreamer1
> 
> A very very loose sequel to the first chapter

Shiro stepped into the dining room, then froze.

The room was an explosion of color, bright green ribbons and red cloth clashing in a way that made the whole thing hard to look at.  White fluffy strands draped from the lights, and Hunk had a piece wrapped around his neck like a huge scarf.  Scattered around on everything were small, black shapes that Shiro couldn’t quite make out.

Frankly, Shiro was a little afraid of going blind.

“What is this?”

Glancing up, Lance beamed at him.  He had, for some unknown reason, a black domino mask over his eyes.  “Shiro!  Merry Christmas!”  He gestured widely, nearly hitting Keith, who was wearing a fluffy green hat with relative grace.

Ch-

Oh!  Well, that explained... some of this.

“Is it really?”  Sitting down as well, Shiro carefully brushed some of the small black shapes away.  Now that he could see them, it looked like a mix of paper snowflakes and...

... Was that the Batman symbol?

No, seriously.  What?

Nodding, Hunk leaned across Lance and jammed a hat down on Shiro’s head.  It was a Santa hat, but the end also had a Batman symbol hastily glued to the fluffball.  “Yup.  Or thereabouts.  We might be off by a day or so because of gravity changes, but it’s pretty close.”

Picking at the symbol, Shiro frowned.  “Did Christmas change while I was-”

Hunk and Lance both loudly shushed him.  

“They’ll hear!” Lance hissed.

Starting, Shiro shot them a wild look.  “Who’ll hear?  Hear  _ what?” _

But Hunk and Lance only shot him grins, and even Keith seemed to be biting back a smile.

For a moment, Shiro honestly considered if one of those wormholes had accidentally sent him to an alternate universe.  Or maybe it had happened during his captivity, and he’d come back to a strange world and never knew.

Coran entering the dining room from the kitchen, dressed as Batman wearing a Santa coat, did not help matters.

Spotting Shiro, Coran beamed.  “Good morning!  You slept in today.  Pidge and Lance told me it’s traditional to be up early on Christmas.”

“The day got away from me,” Shiro answered slowly, as something started to click. Pidge and Lance, huh?  “So I wasn’t expecting to see you dressed as...”

Coran puffed himself up.  “As your traditional holiday hero, the Batman, yes!  I was honored when they asked me to participate in such an important part. Plus, I very much admire someone who would fight crime and deliver presents in one night.”

Slowly, Shiro glanced over at the others.  Lance was blushing, but he shrugged in response, clearly saying ‘what can you do?’ 

If Shiro was going to hazard a guess, Pidge and Lance had decided to tease the aliens about Christmas traditions.  But then Coran and probably Allura had gotten too excited and they were stuck with it.  At that point, Hunk and Keith had been forced to go along with it.  Not that either of them looked sorry about it.

“You make a great Batman,” Shiro told Coran, and got a flattered blush in return.  “Where are Pidge and Allura?”

“Finishing the cake decorations,” Keith replied, calmly handing over a Santa hat for Shiro as well.

Shiro paused, then pulled it over his head.  “Cake?  Where’d you get...”  He glanced at Hunk, who beamed.  “You’re magic.”

Shrugging, Hunk blushed.  “I get by.”

“Who’s ready to eat?” Pidge called, directing out one of the floating serving platters.  It carried a truly monstrous cake that would have been more at home at a wedding than a Christmas table, except for the continuation of the garish color scheme.  Allura and Pidge were both wearing more of the domino masks, and Allura had suspiciously red and green stains around the corner of their mouths.

It seemed Allura was a fan of frosting.  Huh.

Leaning back in his chair, because the entire thing nearly reached the top of his head, Shiro shook his head. “I think we’re going to have trouble going through all that.”

“Speak for yourself,” Keith replied plainly.

But Allura held up her hands.  “But before we eat, we must sing the traditional song, yes?”

Next to her, Pidge suddenly clapped a hand over her mouth and started to shake lightly.

“Ah, yes,” Hunk replied, folding his hands in front of him and matching her smile.  “Which version did they teach you? There are a few variations.”

Allura paused, then took a deep breath.  “It starts...  _ ‘Jingle bells, Batman smells.’ _  Is that enough to tell?” 

Biting his bottom lip, Lance nodded.  “Yeah, that’s perfect.”  He glanced sideways at Shiro, clearly waiting for a reaction.

Oh, they’d get theirs.  But not yet.

“I like that one,” Shiro offered, just to watch Allura and Coran both grin.

Pidge’s entire face had gone red from repressed laughter, and it was a damn good thing that she was behind Allura.  Hunk wasn’t doing much better, but Allura seemed to at least think his was excitement.

Glancing over, Keith caught Shiro’s eyes and nodded, which Shiro returned.

No way they were going to be the ones to break first.

So Shiro kept his expression carefully polite and earnest as Allura led them through singing about Batman’s scent, the status of the batmobile and Robin’s relative location.

Then, Shiro slowly grinned wider.  And, dare he say, Grinch-like.  “Actually, since Pidge and Lance went to so much trouble to bring you two up to speed, I’m surprised they’re not in their own costumes.”

After a quick confused look, Hunk seemed to pick up on the joke.  “Oh, you’re right.  They’re probably just being modest.”

Nodding, Shiro caught Pidge’s gaze, and then Lance’s.  “Why don’t you two be Robin today?” 

Both froze.

“Uh... shouldn’t Allura be Robin?” Pidge asked instead, eyes wide.  “Since it’s her first time too.”

Shiro rested a hand on his chest.  “Robin is a junior position.  We could never ask the Princess to dress as that.  It’s not done.”  Then he met Allura’s eyes, smiling almost shyly.  “Next year, you should be Batman.  But it would be deeply inappropriate to ask someone of your rank to be Robin.”

Nodding, Allura smiled. “I understand,” she replied.  Despite that, she was wearing the thin smile that normally meant the natives were being baffling but she didn’t dare interrupt.

Good enough.

“We don’t have the costumes!” Lance objected, face going red.

That made Keith snort.  “You made Coran’s in like an hour with the equipment.  The Robin costumes shouldn’t take more than twenty minutes, now that you know how to work it.”

Hunk nodded.  “I can help if you want.”

Spreading his arms, Coran beamed.  “I had no idea there were more roles to be filled!  Please, you should join me.  I don’t want to deny you such an honor.”

And with the force of all of the ‘encouragement’, there was no way to say no.

“Alright,” Lance said, standing up.  “But I get to be Dick Grayson.”

Pidge snorted.  “Fine with me.  I’m Damian.” 

With one last glance back, they headed to the lab, already bickering about which style of costume to go with.

Sighing, Allura sat down next to Shiro, while Coran started to serve the cake, making sure to save large pieces for Lance and Pidge.  “We’re being teased, aren’t we?” She murmured to him, without losing a second of grace.

“A little,” Shiro admitted.  “But not as much as you think.  And they’re having fun.”  He offered her a smile.  “A traditional Christmas probably would have been harder on us.  This is better.”

That made Allura pause, and then she nodded.  “I understand.”  This time, it sounded honest.  “Perhaps we’ll wait to tell Coran.”

Glancing at Coran’s beaming smile and enthusiastic kicking displays as he pretended to bring gifts to the children of Gotham, Shiro nodded.  “Good call.”  Then he smiled at Allura.  “Merry Christmas, Princess.”

“Merry Christmas to you all.”

***

The next day, a giant photo of Batman and his two Robins was printed out and put on the wall of the dining room.

Hunk and Keith shared a quiet high-five.

No one took it down for weeks.


	6. As We Dream by the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Machidielontheway

“A fire would have been nice,” Pidge mused, yawning wide enough to make her jaw crack.  She was sprawled out on the couch, one leg thrown over the armrest and clutching at the cushion behind her to stay upright.

Hunk picked up his head, blinking slowly and looking over at her.  “High-oxygen environment,” he reminded.

That earned him a scowl.  “I know that.  I’m just saying it would have been nice.  It’s the idea of it.  We always had a fire going on Christmas.”

Lance padded over, a blanket already draped over his shoulders.  He squeezed in between the both of them, legs curled up under him.  “Not for us.  Too warm, usually.  I could do with roasted marshmallows, though.  Or hot chocolate.”

“Don’t,” Shiro murmured, without picking his head up.  His face was smushed against the back cushion of the couch, and only one eye was cracked open.  “Don’t bring up hot chocolate.”

Lance didn’t bother to hide his amusement at Shiro’s sulk.  “Sorry,” he replied, utterly lacking sincerely.  “I was just saying.”

Only grunting in response, Shiro closed his eye again.  Apparently, whatever it was he’d accepted from Coran had some additions in it.  And some pretty good ones, since Shiro had gone from normal if cheerful to drowsy in the twenty minutes it had taken Coran and Allura to make their escape from the day’s insanity.

Actually, Pidge suspected the drowsiness had been the point.

“What do you guys usually do for Christmas evening?”  Keith asked.  He was still sitting on the single chairs across from the couch, folded in half so he could shove his feet under the pillows.

Cupping a hand behind his ear, Lance leaned forward dramatically.  “What’s that?  I can’t hear you from all the way over there.”

Keith scowled back.  “Yes you can.”

“Nope, not even a little.”

Eyes wide, Keith spread his arms out in frustration.  “You just responded to me!  Yes, you can!”

Snickering, Pidge leaned back further into the couch.  “I dunno.  He does spend a lot of time with his ear next to a gun.  Be sensitive to Lance’s injuries, Keith.”

“That or he damaged his hearing from listening to his music too loud,” Hunk mused.  “I could always hear exactly what he was playing on his headphones from across the room.”

Keith scowled at them all.  “Or I could just take back the question,” he pointed out, jaw set.

“Movies,” Shiro suddenly replied.  “I watched movies.  They had those all day marathons.”

Shrugging, Pidge nodded.  “Same.  Among other things, but a lot of it is hard to recreate.”  Her fingers tapped against her knee, and she frowned as a wave of bitter nostalgia threatened to ruin the mood.  But she hadn’t let it all day, and she wouldn’t break now.  “I think we have a couple.”

“That works for me,” Hunk replied.  “I like them.  Except the claymation ones.  I respect them as an artform but they’re creepy.  They’re really creepy.”

Lance nodded, leaning over until his head was on Hunk’s shoulder.  “That’d be good.”  Then he rested a hand on Hunk’s chest as he scooted forward, until he could see Shiro on Hunk’s other side.  “You gunna stay awake for it.”

“I don’t sleep.  I wait,” Shiro replied instantly. 

Yeah, he was out of it.

“You gunna stay over there?” Pidge called to Keith.  “‘Cause if you do I’m gunna have to change which screens we use and that’ll take a bit.”

Keith considered, then stood up and moved over, sliding between Hunk and Shiro.  “There.  You okay?”  He squinted at Shiro, lips thin with concern.

In response, Shiro teetered over, crashing with his head on top of Keith’s.  “Yeah.  Clear headed.  Not dizzy.  Just tired. But I want to watch the movies.  Do the Grinch. You have that?”

Snickering, Pidge dragged over a pad and looked through her uploaded videos.  “Yeah, of course.”  In a few seconds, it was playing on screen, and all the lights were dimmed. 

Everyone jostled, getting comfortable.  Keith nudged Shiro until he was leaning more against the cushions and less directly on him, Hunk wrapped an arm around Lance’s shoulders, and Pidge leaned back until her spine was against Lance’s side.  After a moment, Lance dug his blanket out from under himself and passed it along, until everyone was at least partly covered.

Okay, Pidge was officially glad there wasn’t a fire now.  It would be way too warm with one.

After a couple of minutes, Shiro let out a huff.  “What’s this?”

“The Grinch?” Lance replied carefully.

“No it’s not.  The Grinch is animated.”

Hunk let out a quiet snicker.  “There’s a couple of versions, Shiro.”

Cracking open one eye again, Shiro scowled.  “The other versions are wrong.”

Reaching over, Keith gave Shiro’s shoulder a quick pat.  “It’s fine.  It’s the same story.”

“This is the version I’ve got,” Pidge reported, and turned off the pad before anyone could check on that.  Maybe she technically had the animated one too, but she liked this one.  And also Shiro’s sulking was hilarious.

“It’s bullshit,” Shiro muttered back, but he shifted to pick his head up, actually engaging the movie he’d requested.

Lance shrugged. “You need to be more specific.  Focus is important, Shiro.”

Immediately picking up on the joke, Hunk nodded sagely.  “Focus is the key to results, you know.”

“You don’t get anything without patience,” Pidge jumped in, grinning widely.

Shiro eyed all three of them, as they all gave him their best innocent expressions.  “You’re rude,” he told them.  “Keith, you’re my favorite.”

“Goodie,” Keith replied, deadpan.  “Good to know I’m the last choice.”

Snorting, Shiro shifted so his chin was against the top of Keith’s head.  “You deserve it after glue incident.”

Keith’s mouth fell open in outrage.  “That was an accident!”

“200 dollar textbook.  I don’t care.”

Crossing his arms, Keith scowled.

Lance’s eyes brightened with open interest.  “What was the glue incident?”

The answering grin from Shiro had a shark-like quality.  “Keith dumped an entire container of super glue on one of my textbooks.  Then he tried to wipe it off with his bare hands, and got it on the rest of my desk.”

“How many apologies do you need for that?” Keith muttered back.  “You said it was fine.”

Shiro only laughed, low and soft.  “It is fine.  But I reserve the right to give you shit.”

“And you got us lost in the desert at 2 AM.”

Shrugging, Shiro yawned.  “I got us back before wake-up call, it was fine.”

Hunk glanced between them both, openly amused.  “You know, in hindsight, it’s kind of terrifying that you two used used to do things together without supervision.”

“I know, right?” Shiro replied, grinning.  “I don’t know who decided that was a good plan.  Terrible idea.”

Pidge groaned and leaned over everyone, eyeing them.  “You know, you asked for a movie, and now you’re not watching it.  This is very ungrateful.”

And she’d meant it to be teasing, but Shiro nodded and pulled back, settling back down.  “Sorry.”  But after a moment, he grumbled.  “It’s not the right movie, though.”

“You know what?”  Hunk took hold of Shiro’s shirt and tugged, until he slipped off the top of Keith’s head and slumped down over Keith and Hunk’s laps instead.  Then he started to card his fingers through Shiro’s hair, massaging into the scalp.  “You shush.  This okay, Keith?”

Considering, Keith nodded.  “Yeah.  He was heavy, actually.”

Hunk nodded.  “Good.  Now, let Jim Carrey mug at the camera in peace.”

They did manage to get through the rest of the movie without serious interruptions.  By the end of it, Hunk had taken his hand out of Shiro’s hair, but he didn’t seem to notice, if his soft snores were any indication.  And since he was pinning Keith and Hunk down, it was basically illegal for them to move.  And Lance and Pidge weren’t going to abandon them, so they put on Batman Returns, on Lance’s request.

“It takes place around Christmas,” Lance muttered stubbornly. “That counts.”

Keith eyed him, even as he started to droop against Hunk.  “No one is arguing with you.”

At some point during that one, Lance and Keith both nodded off, framing Hunk on either side.  And Lance wrapped an arm around Pidge’s stomach like a teddy bear, but it wasn’t worth the effort of complaining.  Hunk made it nearly to the end, but even he drifted off eventually, head nearly flat on the top of the couch.

Pidge flipped off the screens, leaving them nearly in darkness.  Not all the way, because the walls always had the faintest glow, but even that was mostly off on these settings.  She could only see the faint outlines.

This wasn’t like any other Christmas she’d experienced.  And Pidge had been afraid that would mean it was bad.

Instead, it was good.  A different kind of Christmas for a different kind of family.

Still, next year she’d have both kinds.

That was a promise.


	7. Bringing Good Cheer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Andriseup

“How’s this one?” Lance asked, tapping a spoon against the glass.

Considering, Hunk closed his eyes, and Lance obligingly hit it again.  “Try a little closer to the rim?”  When Lance complied, he grinned.  “That’s perfect.  And that’s all of them!”

Lance sat down heavily, slumping back in the chair.  “Good.  Oh, man, I did not think that was going to be so much work.”

“We needed three octaves worth of notes,” Hunk pointed out, as he turned back to his program.  He’d already input the sheet music, and now it was starting to automatically fill in the notes with the correct sounds.

Where he’d gotten the sheet music originally was beyond Lance.  Maybe he’d just known it off the top of his head.  Hunk was amazing like that.

Slumping further, Lance groaned.  “I know, but I didn’t think it’d take so much trial and error!  Just let me complain in peace, would you?”

Hunk chuckled.  “Sorry.  Are you sure you want to complain now, though?  Because we’re about done.”

Perking immediately, Lance scooted his chair closer to the screen.  “Already?  Well, I guess I can cut into my schedule a little.  How’s it sound?”

With a click, the opening notes of  _ Carol of the Bells _ began to play.

“It’s alright,” Hunk said, eyes closed.  “Not exactly, but about as good as you’re going to get on glasses filled with water and the junk we found on board.”

Shoving his shoulder playfully, Lance snorted.  “Are you kidding me?  This is great.  You’re a genius, Hunk.”

Blushing, he shrugged.  “I mean, it was your idea.”

Lance grinned.  “So we’re both geniuses.  Signed and sealed.  Now let’s go enjoy the fruits of our labors, shall we?”

Despite the way he fidgeted, clearly nervous, Hunk grinned and nodded.  And taking aside everything else, the past year had been pretty good for Hunk’s confidence.  Back at the Garrison, Lance had barely been able to drag him out of their dorm, despite how excited he’d been for the idea before.  

“Who first?” Hunk asked, already pulling up the intercom system.

Leaning forward, Lance considered.  “Let’s start with Pidge.  She’ll probably like it, as long as she hasn’t been up all night.  Then we’ll do Coran, he’ll definitely get a kick out of it.”

Hunk considered, then grinned.

They’d taken their project to Hunk’s room for relatively privacy, so now it was just a matter of heading over to the lab.  Pulling out his pad, Hunk nodded to Lance, and he knocked.

A moment later, Pidge opened the door, brow furrowed.  “Is the opening mechanism broken?  It wasn’t locked.

And instead of answering, Hunk started the music, and they began to sign.

_ “Hark how the bells, _ _   
_ _ Sweet silver bells, _ _   
_ _ All seem to say, _ _   
_ __ Throw cares away”

Lance was a more than decent singer, if he did say so himself.  Mind, his talents were best used for karaoke nights and singing to roadtrip playlists, but he could certainly carry a tune.  Hunk, on the other hand, had a hell of a voice.  The problem with that being that Lance usually only heard it in the shower.  The rest of the time, Hunk’s voice was too quiet to get the full effect.

But this wasn’t about wowing Pidge with their musical prowess.  It was about exactly what they’d got: her look of delight, and then giggling against the doorframe.

“Where did you get that?” She asked, once they were done.  Her beaming smile hadn’t faltered, and Lance grinned back, just as warm.

He nodded to Hunk’s program.  “We just got a bunch of sounds that sounded like notes.  Then Hunk put it together.”

“I just mapped out the sounds to the correct notes,” Hunk replied.  “t’After that, the program created it for me.  Setting it up took a while, but now we can do just about anything if we can make the sheet music for it.

Pidge eyed them both fondly.  “And you used it for caroling.”

Lance shrugged.  “Well, yeah.  That was the point.”

Chuckling, Pidge shook her head.  “Well, I’m in, if you’re gunna keep doing it.  It sounds like fun.  Who next?”

Coran was, predictably, delighted. 

“A traditional Earth balad?”  His hands came up to rest on either cheek.  “Oh, that’s lovely.  I like that best of all your music I’ve heard.”

Which, considering that was mostly either Pidge’s electronic work music or Lance’s fun, bubbling pop songs, was pretty fair.

Then again, no one on those songs had a voice quite like Pidge’s singing tones.  It was like a tiny frog gremlin had temporarily possessed her throat.

In short, it was amazing, and Lance was going to drag this out just to hear more of it.

“Want to join us?” Hunk offered.  “I have the lyrics on the pad, and I can set it to show you the timing.”

Considering, Coran dropped his wrench-alike back into his kit.  “I can see this is a very important ritual for your race.  It would be wrong of me to pass up such an opportunity to learn more about humanity.”

Pidge snorted.  “You just think it’ll be fun.”

Coran beamed back.  “Yes!  Who’s door were you going to sing at next?”

One brow rising mischievously, Pidge glanced at the others.  “I saw Keith sneaking into the training deck a little while ago.”

Lance matched her smile with a toothy grin of his own.  “Sounds like he could use some holiday cheer.”

“Guys-” Hunk started, but Coran puffed up his chest and nodded.

“Excellent!  Let’s go.”  And he started for the door, trailed a smirking Pidge and a snickering Lance.

Well, it wasn’t like it was mean, right?  Just that Keith probably wasn’t going to be super into it.  

Lance eyed Hunk.  “Can you access the training room’s speakers from here?  I know they’re on their own system.”

Lips thinning, Hunk eyed him.  “Of course I can.”  And a few seconds later, the sound started to  _ boom _ from the training room.  “Um.  The sound might have been up a little high.” 

Just as Hunk cut the sound back off, there was a crash.

Biting his bottom lip, Lance opened the door.

It wasn’t just Keith inside.  Shiro was there as well, his metal out arm and activated, current stuck in a training bot’s neck.  The other arm was wrapped around Keith’s shoulders, tucking him close, despite the way he was already squirming to try and get away.

Both of them froze to look at the four in the doorway.

“ _ Christmas is here, bringing new cheer!” _ Coran started, reading from his pad, but paused when no one else joined in.

“Um,” Pidge started, eyes wide.  “Merry Christmas?  Sorry, we didn’t know Shiro was here.”

Finally, Keith managed to squirm out, and he eyed them all.  “The hell?”  Then he glanced back at Shiro. “You okay?”

Tugging, Shiro frowned.  His hand didn’t budge.  “One second, I just need to...”  Planting one foot on the frozen bot’s chest, he managed to finally yank himself free, nearly stumbling back into Keith from the process.  “I appreciate the thought, but surprising someone in the training room like that may not have been a smart idea.”  He looked down at the gaping hole in the robot’s neck and sighed.

“It wasn’t that loud anywhere else,”  Hunk offered.  “It played like normal music there.  We didn’t know.”

Glancing sideways at Shiro, Keith winced.  “Oops.”

He eyed Keith right back.  “You messed with the settings?”

“I hit the wrong spot when I was activating the bot,” Keith admitted.  “I was going to fix it after.”

Lance offered a smile.  “Well, sorry.  You okay?”

Shiro nodded.  “Just startled.”  And Lance winced, because could mean a lot with Shiro, but he seemed honest about it.  “What were you doing, anyway?”

“No harm done, it seems.  We can fix that up in no time at all.  And we were caroling!”  Coran beamed at Shiro, all eager excitement.  

Keith eyed Coran, then sighed, the irritation visibly draining out of him.  “Why?”

Lance shrugged.  “Cause it’s almost Christmas and it’d be fun.”  The only response he got from Keith was a crinkled nose.

Glancing between them all, Shiro’s brows rose.  “We were the last ones?”

“We haven’t hit Allura yet,” Pidge told him, brows up.  “You want in?”

Shiro’s brow went up.  “I’m not much of a singer,” he admitted.

“That’s not the point of caroling,” Lance objected.  

That only earned him a bland look from Keith.  “Apparently.”  But Shiro jabbed his shoulder without looking, and he just sighed.

“Please, Shiro?” Hunk asked, eyes big.  “It’ll be fun.  You don’t have to know the lyrics or anything, we’ve got them all here.”

It was that argument that finally seemed to get through to Keith, who suddenly relaxed and glanced over at Shiro in question.

Watching them all, Shiro sighed.  “Give us ten minutes to clean off, would you?”

 

Which was how Allura was woken from a rare nap to five paladins and Coran singing a song she had never heard before, loudly, off-beat and grinning the whole time.

She didn’t seem to mind.

(The mice, however, were not a fan)


	8. Let Your Heart be Bright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Rakukajas
> 
> Implied Allura/Shiro/Matt, but can be read as gen

“And that was when the dog started to throw up,” Matt finished, lips curled up and waving his hand in a flourish.

Snorting, Shiro nearly spilled his cup of... whatever it was that they were drinking.  Coran had left it with Allura with a smile, and she’d grinned as she poured it to them.  And Shiro felt like he was on the verge of a buzz, like after couple of glasses of wine.  

But he also suspected the feeling wasn’t due to the drink at all.  It was closer to being social drunk, enjoying the loose, free moment.

Leaning back against the couch, Allura laughed, her head tilted back and hair spilling everywhere.  “I’m surprised they let you near the cooking equipment to begin with,” she admitted.

“Me too,” Matt responded, grinning.  “But none of us are really the cooking types, so I think Mom and Dad were happy to let me try, at least.  Or, they were until they tried eating it.”

Unable to help it, Shiro snorted on his drink.  “You could have rehydrated the mash from Kerberos and fed that to them and it would have been better.”

Matt’s mouth fell open, and he twisted on the couch, shoving Shiro on the shoulder with his foot.  “Those are fighting words, Shirogane.”  

“You sure about that?” Shiro replied, shooting him a toothy grin.  In response, Matt kicked harder, sending him half-sprawling into Allura’s lap.  Only her quick thinking in grabbing his cup away saved them both from being splashed with Space Alcohol.

Draining the rest of his drink in revenge, Allura set the cup aside.  “And I would best both of you, so perhaps this isn’t the best test.”

Matt only stuck on his tongue.  “Who said it would be a physical battle?”

Not getting up just yet, Shiro turned to eye Matt.  “Sure, you want to calculate vectors against me?”

“You might remember that your species is not as advanced as Altea,” Allura replied as well, brows up.

Scowling, Matt crossed his arms. “A battle of jokes.  Because I’m funnier than you both  _ combined.”   _ When Shiro started to laugh again, Matt gave him a final shove.  “I am!  Who was just making you choke on your drink, huh?”

“You probably are,” Allura replied fondly, reaching down to pat Shiro’s head like dog.  “And I’m sure Shiro and I would deeply regret such a fight.”

Lips curled up, Matt nodded.  “Damn right.  Admit it, Takashi.”

Shiro sighed.  “Yeah, you are.  And you’d beat me in anything that didn’t involve getting a ship between point A and point B, I admit that.”  He finally sat up, then gave a mournful look to his now empty cup.

“Alright,” Allura allowed, pouring him a fresh glass.  “Do try not to spill it anywhere this time.”

“If I don’t get kicked, I think I can manage that.”

Settling back in the corner of the couch, she nodded to Shiro.  “Do you have any Christmas stories like Matt?”

Shiro froze.  “My family wasn’t big on holidays,” he answered carefully, avoiding strong eye contact with either.  “So I don’t really have stories.”

“Nothing?” Allura prodded gently.  “It doesn’t have to be this one.”

Shiro made the mistake of catching her eyes, and he melted at the soft, pained question there.  “Not really a story, no.  When I was younger, my mother would always try and get me out and doing something different. The last time it was ice skating.”  His fingers played over the edge of the cup, not really seeing the action as he remembered.

“How old were you?” Matt asked, voice soft.

“Nine.”  Then Shiro caught himself, and winced at the heavy atmosphere.  “But that’s not a good story, like I said.  What about your, Princess?”

Allura frowned at him.  “Allura,” she reminded, gentle but stern.

Coloring, Shiro nodded.  He’d forgotten, if only for a moment.

“I am curious,” Matt replied, brows up.  “I know you said Altea didn’t have much of a winter season, but you might have an emotional equivalent?”  He straightened up, visibly preparing for a lecture.

Shiro relaxed in an almost mirror reaction.  He knew Matt would talk until the moment was passed.  He was very good at getting beyond potentially awkward moments through sheer force of will.

Pushing up his glasses, Matt took a deep breath.  “The point of winter celebrations, of which Christmas is just one example, is a point of emotional refreshment in a time that might otherwise be emotionally difficult to get through.  Historically, winters were often deadly due to conditions, and unpleasant due to the longer nights and lack of resources.  So these holidays were set around the longest night of the year, as a way of getting through until the weather warmed again and life could resume.”  He shrugged.  “So you might have something that’s like it if spirit if not in practice.”

Allura shook her head dryly.  “I’m often amazed at what other beings managed to survive on their own planets.  But, yes, when you put it that way.”  She settled back, her hands in her lap.  “We had a prolonged rainy season.  Often, the sun wouldn’t reappear for weeks at a time.  It was difficult, as a child, to be locked up inside for so long during those times, but the storms were dangerous to fly through for most crafts., and certainly too much for an unprotected body.  But every two weeks, there would be a day where...”  She trailed off, clearly trying to think of how to communicate it.  “The force fields on homes or crafts would be redirected into a sloped disc.  And the rain would run off of that and leave the area under it relatively dry.  So the children could run and play in that space.  The volume of the rain was enough that it water rushing off the sides acted much like a waterfall, and could be dangerous.”

Grinning, Matt shook his head.  “And everyone wanted to play in it, right?”

“Yes.” Allura’s answering smile was bright.  “Being able to jump through and back without any adults noticing was an act of pride.  Especially since they all knew we would do it and were on watch.”  She paused, then laughed.  “One time, I managed to sneak away from my Father and Coran for long enough to join, but they noticed me when I started.  I was so startled by the shouts that I tripped through instead, and ended up nearly washing away with the mud.  I got back on my own, but the scolding I got after...” She shook her head.  

Shiro watched her fondly, imaging a smaller Allura caked head to toe in mud, sulkily accepting a talking down.  It would have been hard to picture, back in the beginning, but he knew better now.

Snickering, Matt nodded.  “It was worth it, right?”

“Oh yes. Absolutely.  It was also worth the hour to took to get all the mud out of my hair.”  She ran her fingers through it, smiling softly.  Her eyes glazed slightly, both from the memory and the loss.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but Shiro felt that deep in his bones.  He understood it.  So he leaned over, pressing his shoulder to Allura’s.  When she glanced over, he offered a small smile in return.  After a moment, she returned the soft pressure.

“That sounds fun, honestly,” Matt offered.  “I was always more of a ‘run through the mud’ kind of kid than a ‘snowball fight’ one anyway, too.  More to mess with.”  He shifted closer, one ankle tangled around Shiro’s closest leg, and his hand draping across Shiro’s lap, palm up.

After a moment, Allura rested her hand on top of his.  They didn’t hold, just placed them on top of each other.

For a moment, Shiro bit his tongue and wondered if he should try and share more.  It was true that he didn’t have a huge number of holiday memories, so it felt like he was scrambling for something.  And he’d managed to keep his past vague on purpose.  But Allura had shared, and her loss was so much fresher.

Then again, did he really want to bring down the mood?  Shiro knew what they’d think, and it wasn’t true, but it would tained the conversation in a way that just avoiding the question wouldn’t.

“Hey.” Matt suddenly called, voice so low and close that Shiro jumped.  “Stop thinking.  Drink.”

Allura chuckled.  “Stop thinking is not words I expected to hear from you.”

That only made Matt snort.  “I know the difference between a good think and a bad think, that’s all.  And in my professional opinion, this is a bad one.  So drink.”

“I...”  Shiro shook his head.  He knew better.  The pair of them would order him around the galaxy and he’d sigh, but he’d do it without hesitation.  So he drained the rest of his drink, and closed his eyes instead.

After a moment, he slowly let out a breath, forcing himself to relax.  And once he did, he felt Matt’s lips press against his shoulder, despite the shirt between them, and could feel when he smiled.  “Did your rainy holiday have any songs?”

Allura laughed.  “Not officially.  It wasn’t something so organized.  But there were children’s chants.  Usually it was counting off the number of times you could jump through before someone noticed.”

“How’d it go?”

Pausing, Allura let out a tiny snort, nearly a hiccuping giggle, and Shiro thought that the drink was probably getting to her too.  “Oh, wow.  It’s been a long time.  It went something like...”  And the words she murmured, soft and lyrical, didn’t translate properly.  But it sounded adorable, and the breathy, quiet quality of Allura’s voice in the quiet moment made it almost ethereal.

Shiro relaxed further, letting their voices wash over him as Matt returned the favor, quietly murmuring along to Winter Wonderland.

As he started to doze, Shiro shifted and placed his hand over both of theirs, curling around to brush the pads of his fingers against Matt’s palm and running his thumb over Allura’s knuckles.

If he needed such a thing, this could be his good holiday memory.

If not, it was a good memory anyway.


	9. Sentimental Feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Fangirlartist
> 
> This is the one that made me lowkey tear up at work.
> 
> So, you know.
> 
>  _Thanks_ for that

Shifting the tree with a grunt, Hunk backed up and away.  “How are we looking?”

“Looks straight to me,” Shiro replied, one eye closed.

“Good.”  Hunk rubbed at his arms, getting off the last of the needles.

It wasn’t a perfect Christmas tree.  It was, amazingly, very similar to Earth pine trees, if slightly larger.  But it was also covered in bright reds and yellows, like the color of fall leaves back home.

Which, personally, Shiro thought looked a bit too much like those gaudy fake things people bought to decorate offices with.  But he was going to keep his mouth shut on that one.

Pidge stuck her head out from the back with a grin, her hair full of bright red needles.  “Ready for this?”  At Lance’s whoop, she ducked back down and something clicked.

The tree lit up.  Despite looking closely, Shiro couldn’t see the cord connect them at all, if there even was one.  Instead they seemed to float gently above the branches.

They were also painfully bright.

“Awesome,” Lance breathed, shading his eyes with his hands.  “Perfect.”

Wincing, Keith leaned back.  “Can you adjust the brightness?”  He ignored Lance’s loud shushing.  “It’s hard to look at.”

A moment later, they dimmed down to a more reasonable level, and Shiro breathed his own sigh of relief.

Pidge finally climbed out from behind the tree and walked over. She turned, hands on her hips in clear satisfaction.  “It looks good.”

Rather than reply, Shiro looked down at her tangle of curls, lips thin.  Then he reached down and started to pluck out the needles.

At first, she didn’t notice, but then she jolted away.  “Hey!  What are you doing.”

“Stay still,” Shiro muttered back, already reaching for another one.  “If we don’t get these now, I  _ know _ you’ll forget about it and sleep in it.  Then good luck getting them out.”

For a moment, Pidge eyed him suspiciously.  “That’s it?”  She stayed still as Shiro pulled out another and showed it to her.  “Oh.  That’s okay.”

“And here we have the bonding ritual of the Voltron paladins,” Hunk murmured, soft and dramatic like an animal show host.  “See how the elder paladin cares for the younger cubs.”

Lance snickered appreciatively.  “If Shiro starts licking her hair flat, I want that on video.”

“What did you think he was going to do?” Keith asked Pidge, head tilted.

Shrugging, Pidge grimaced as Shiro tugged harder on a tangled pine needle.  “I dunno.  Put stuff in my hair?  Pull?”  That earned her several odd looks, and she snorted.  “I have an older sibling.  It’s  _ instinct.” _

“It’s true,” Lance replied solemnly, nodding.  “You can’t be too careful.”

Hunk put a hand over his chest.  “I would never!”

“Siblings are weird,” Keith muttered, and Shiro couldn’t help but agree.

Head tilted, Lance glanced back at the tree.  “It’s very shiny, and I appreciate that, but what are you doing for ornaments?”

Bending down, Hunk pulled out a container and gave it a gentle shake.  “We made a bunch while we set up the lights.  Look!  Color coded.”  He pulled out a yellow one and beamed, showing them the drawing of the yellow lion on the front.

Looked like Pidge had drawn it.  And he’d be lying if he said that wasn’t endearing, honestly.

Keith frowned, brow furrowed.  “I thought ornaments were supposed to be stuff you made? We always made some in school, and usually everyone took them home.”

There was a slight pause, as the implications of that settled in.

“I think it’s a personal thing,” Shiro replied, as smoothly as he could.  “Depends on the family.”  He patted Pidge’s head.  “You’re good to go.”

She gave a shake of her head, settling her hair back into place, then ran her fingers through it.  “Thanks.  And yeah, it depends.  We usually had a mix.”

“No reason we can’t make more, right?” Lance asked, eyes just a little too bright.  “I mean, I like the ones you guys made, but it’s different if we all make some.  You know what I mean?”

Biting her bottom lip, Pidge glanced at Hunk.  “We could do half and half.”

Looking down at the box, Hunk nodded.  “Yeah.  I’d like that.  Anything you guys wanna make, just come to the lab today or tomorrow?  We’ll help you make it.  And after we can put them all up.”

“Wait-” Keith started, eyes wide.  

But Lance was already hopping up.  “I’ll go tell Coran and Allura,” he volunteered.  “They should get to make some too.”

Lips curled up, Shiro nodded.  “Good call.”

“I’ll get the printers started,” Pidge offered.  “We can do some tests with it while everyone plans.  Coming, Hunk?”

He nodded and followed her out, leaving Keith and Shiro with the gaudy, brightly lit tree.

“Dammit.  I didn’t mean to start this.”  Keith sighed, slumping back in his chair.  “What are you going to make?”

Shiro hummed, twisting his handful of needles in his hand.  “I’m not sure.  I’ll think of something.”

“Helpful.”

“You got both of us into this,” Shiro replied, lips curled up in almost dark amusement.  “Every man for himself, now.”

Keith’s groan was his only answer.

***

“So why bring the tree inside?” Coran asked, eyes bright with curiosity.  “Won’t it die?”

Lance glanced at the tree and shrugged.  “Well, yes,” he admitted.  “But it looks nice?”

Tilting his head, Coran considered.  Then he nodded sagely.  “It does indeed,” he agreed happily, settling back.  “I’m very curious to see how it goes.  It seems such an odd tradition.”

“It’s pretty silly from the outside,” Shiro agreed easily.  “Did you both of the chance to think of something?”

Nodding, Allura held up a small box.  “Yes, and we appreciate the warning and inclusion.”

“Of course,” Hunk replied, shrugging.  “It’s a group thing.  Family.”  The final word came out just a touch quieter, hinting at shyness.  But it melted away when Allura beamed back at him, eyes warm.

Twisting his own small box in his hands, Keith glanced up through his bangs.  “So, how do we do this?  And who’s gunna put up the other ones?”

“Youngest to oldest?” Shiro offered.  “And once we all cycle through with our own, we can start placing the others.  But the ones we make should get first pick of where they go.  Places of honor.”

Pidge stood up, bouncing on her feet.  “That’s me, then.”  She pulled out her ornament.  From where Shiro was standing, it looked almost like a clock face.  Going up on her tip-toes, Pidge carefully looped the hook on one of the branches, then stepped back.  “There.”

“What is it?” Lance asked, head tilted.  

In answer, Pidge moved it around.  What had looked like clock hands stayed in the same direction, no matter how she moved it.  “It’s a compass.  Obviously not a magnetic one. It always points to Earth.”

Oh.  The answer made Shiro’s breath stop, if only for a moment, and he couldn’t help following the hands.  It felt different to know the exact direction their home was, and for a moment Shiro stayed still, trying to feel some sort of tug.

He felt one, but not in the same direction.  It was the black lion.

Ah, well.

“I like that,” Hunk murmured fondly, eyes soft.  “Do you think you could make more?”

Pidge nodded, her cheeks faintly red.  Or it was just the light reflected off the garishly bright tree.  It was hard to tell.  “Sure.”

Once she was settled again, Lance cleared his throat.  “Who’s next?”  

There was a quick back and forth between Lance, Keith and Hunk, before Lance reluctantly stood, pegged as second to last by only a few weeks.

His ornament was a long string of seashells, draped over the limbs like garland.  Each one was unique, and under the lights they glimmered like they were covered in a layer of frost.  

“One for everyone,” he murmured quietly, more to himself.  After a quick count, Shiro realized it Lance didn’t mean everyone on the castle.  He meant everyone he was missing.

When Lance turned around, his eyes were shiny, and he was silent as he trudged back to the couch and leaned against Hunk’s side.  He was instantly folded into a one-armed embrace. 

Shiro paused a moment, letting Lance settled and take a few deep breaths.  “Keith?”

Looking distinctly nervous, Keith stood and nodded.  “Mine’s not fancy,” he admitted, voice low, and he took it out, hanging it carefully.

It was a model of the castle as it looked in flight.  And at first, Shiro though he’d gotten some sort of schematics and made it from that.  But then he realized that some of the thrusters weren’t the same size, and the whole thing listed just slightly to the left.

Keith had made that by hand.

And it only took a moment after that to realize why. Keith had made his home.

Once he was settled again, Shiro leaned over, pressing their arms together.  He doubted Keith would appreciate being hugged right now, not when he was on such display, but Shiro couldn’t resist the contact.

A moment later, Keith pushed back.

“Me next?” Hunk asked, clearly rhetorically.  He carefully untangled himself from Lance, and pulled out his own ornament.  

It was a simple metal bell.  At first, Shiro waited, sure there was some twist, like with Pidge’s.  But instead it gave a quiet ring as he hung it, arms up as he reached as far up as he could manage.  Then he stepped away with a small, satisfied smile.

When he turned around, Hunk offered a small shrug, his smile warm but shaky.  “My grandfather always hung one on the tree.  After he passed, I did it for him.  It felt wrong to do anything else.”

Swallowing hard, Lance held out his arms, and Hunk half-fell back into them, holding on just as tightly.  Pidge scooted just a bit closer and rested her hand on Hunk’s shoulder.  A second later, she was folded into their hug.

Because Shiro was in no hurry, he waited until they were settled again.  “You gunna go?” Lance asked him, trying for light, but his voice was too shaky to really manage.

Shiro nodded and stood, holding his own in his natural hand.  It was a good thing the materials were sturdy, or else he may well have cracked it.

At first, he’d been going to go for a star chart but it hadn’t felt right.  Because he’d felt the mood over the past day, and he’d known how seriously everyone else was taking it.  So his first, dismissive thought wasn’t going to stand.

Instead, Shiro hooked on a tiny model ice skate.  Then he turned, shoving his hands deep in his pockets.  He saw Pidge’s brow furrow in confusion, and then she glanced at him, looking like she was about to comment.  But something on his face must have communicated something he didn’t mean to, because she froze.

“You want to share?” Hunk asked, painfully quiet and gentle.

Shiro just smiled and settled back down.  “A good memory.”

No one pressed him further, for which he was grateful.  But a moment later, Keith’s arm pressed against Shiro’s again.  He leaned into it gratefully, eyes closed.

“I suppose I’m next,” Allura murmured, standing up.  Shiro made himself open his eyes to watch, his breathing carefully controlled as she stepped up.  Hers was a simple clear disc, with a pressed flower inside.

Coran’s breath caught.  “Is that a juniberry?” He asked, voice rough.

Nodding, Allura flicked the side of the disc, and the whole thing spun on its string, catching the lights.  “Yes.  I found a pressed one preserved in my room.  It was from the last festival we attended.”  Her voice didn’t shake, but her hand did, just barely.  “I believe it’s the last one left.”

The weight of that hung in the air, as she turned and settled back down, chin up.  But after a moment she leaned against Coran, and he nearly folded himself around her.

“Princess,” Shiro murmured, catching her eye.  “Thank you.  Very much.”

Allura smiled back, eyes bright.  “Yes, well, it’s doing more good here where others can see it, after all.  And it’ll come back to me after, will it not?”

Nodding, Hunk swallowed hard.  “Yeah.  Of course.  Everyone is gunna get their own back.”

“Good.”  She nodded and settled back, eyes firmly on the tree.

Coran took a deep breath.  “Well, I think I may have... overestimated the size of mine.  It was difficult to scale down further, but it seems to be at odds with the rest.”  His box, true to his word, was closer to a square foot than a few inches, like the rest of them.  “We’ll find a strong branch for it, I suppose.”

What he pulled out looked like a pulsing, brightly lit machine.

Mouth falling open, Pidge stared.  “Coran, is that..?”

“It’s a model of one of the lion’s Quintessence cores,” he confirmed, nodding.  “Working, in fact.  Well, not actually.  It moves in a similar way, but it’s obviously not generating anything.  Just lit up.”

Glancing at Pidge and Hunk’s wide eyes, and then at Allura’s quiet awe, Shiro tilted his head.  “I think I’m a little lost.  It’s amazing, don’t get me wrong, but it seems I’m missing something.”

“It’s...” Hunk swallowed hard.  “It’s kind of like the heart of one of the lions.  In a way less gross way.”

Oh.

Frowning, Coran tried to hook it on one of the branches, but it immediately bowed under the weight.  “Hmm.  Perhaps this wasn’t the wisest choice.”

“No, it’s perfect,” Lance insisted.  “Coran, my man, that’s going up top.”

Coran frowned.  “The branches at the top don’t seem any stronger.”

Shaking her head, Pidge pointed up.  “No, balanced on top.  There’s usually a star, or something religious.  Dad got a scale model of Alpha Centari A, and that’s what we always put up.”

That was such a Command Holt thing - such a Holt thing in general, that Shiro choked.  “Of course.”

Pidge only shot him a grin in response.

“Let me help,” Hunk offered.  He pulled over a step stool and a some wire from his pack, then helped Coran affix it to the top.  It looked just slightly awkward, but then again, Shiro thought most of the stars and angels and whatever else people topped their trees with did too.

Keith leaned back, head tilted.  “I like it.”  And he sounded just a bit awed about it.

“I do too,” Allura agreed warmly.  “It’s a lovely tradition.”

Clearing his throat, Shiro nodded to Pidge.  “It’s not done yet.  Grab the box?”

“Right!”  Popping to her feet, Pidge grabbed the container Hunk had left.  She pulled out a green ornament, and hung it on with just as much care but much less gravitas.

Good. They’d had enough heavy stuff for one evening.

Without the pauses and explanations, the rest of the decoration went quickly, and soon the tree looked about to fall over from the weight.  It was covered in a rainbow of ornaments, along with the heartfelt but certainly mish mashed collection of personal items.

And Shiro took it back. It looked nothing like the silly store bought ones.  It was theirs, and it was perfect.

“One more thing,” Coran announced.  “When Lance described to me what snow looks like, it sounded very much like something we have.”  He pulled out another box and pulled off the top, showing them the insides.  “It’s not frozen, but the look is very similar.  Altean children often used it for decoration projects.”

Brows up, Keith stared.  “So it’s glitter?”

Lance’s eyes went wide.  “It’s totally snow glitter.  Oh my god.  Will it stay on the branches?”  He grabbed a handful to test it with, and he beamed when it clung.  “That’s perfect!  Coran, you’re the greatest.”

Chest puffed out, Coran held out the box.  “I do try,” he admitted.

Shiro moved over to help, but as he took a handful, he glanced over at Pidge.  She was fiddling with the ornaments, making sure they were evenly spaced and not about to fall off.

Little sibling instincts, huh?

“Hey, Pidge,” Shiro called.  When she turned around and tilted her head in question, he smiled.

Then he dropped the entire handful of glitter in her hair.

For a second, Pidge just gaped at him.  Then she shook her head, sending glitter everywhere like a wet dog.  Keith yelped and dodged out of the way, but not before his shirt was thoroughly sprayed.  “That was a mistake.”

“Was it?” Shiro asked, still grinning.  “How so?  It looks nice.”

Taking her own handful, Pidge pointed at him, lips pulled back in a playful snarl. “I’m going to turn the rest of your hair white, you jerk.”

Shiro looked down at her, one brow raised.  “Can you reach?”

“Oooh, he’s gunna get it,” Hunk murmured, voice low.

The second Pidge took a step forward, Shiro bolted away. She stayed on his tail, half a step behind him as he ducked around the room, trying to lose her.

(She did end up catching him, but only because Allura physically picked him up and held him still for her to shove snow glitter in his hair.  Shiro maintained he could have kept it up all night if Allura hadn’t cheated.  To which Lance cheerfully responded that Shiro’s face was cheating, and threw glitter at both of them.)

(Later, Coran mused that even the youngest Altean children had never managed to make such a mess.  But he didn’t sound mad when he said it, so Shiro counted that as a win.)


	10. Good Tidings to You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Brasslizard

“Shiro,” Lance called, leaning his head back against the top of the couch.  “Hey, Shiro!”

This was going to be a ridiculous request.  Shiro could tell just from his own.  Sighing, he leaned against the doorframe.  “Yes?”

“What kind of weapon proficiencies do you have?”

Looking at all four of them, clustered around the couch, Shiro frowned.  “I’m suddenly very uncomfortable with this conversation.   _ Why?” _

Hunk held up a calming hand, shaking his head.  “Nothing bad.  Just wondering.”  When Shiro’s frown didn’t waver, he sighed.  “Seriously.  We just can’t tell you why.”

Closing his eyes, Shiro scrubbed over his face.  “You want me to tell you what weapons I can use, and you won’t tell me why.”

“They’re trying to figure out what your bayard would be,” Keith told him blandly.  All three off them shifted to glare at him, and he held up his hands.  “You are!  It doesn’t give anything away.”

Pidge groaned.  “You all suck at this.”

Before the bickering could start, Shiro stepped in and sat down in one of the chairs.  “Does it matter?”  He asked.  “I don’t think Pidge was trained in lasso tasers.  Unless I’m wrong about that.”

Pidge shook her head.  “Nope.  I mean, I’ve used a taser.  Just to see what it would do, and never against a person.”

“I’ve never used a gun like mine,” Hunk added, nodded.  “Which is what I said when this started.”

Huffing, Lance leaned back farther against the couch.  “Well, Keith and I knew how to use our weapons before, or at least something like them.  So close enough.  And it’s the best we’ve got for figuring it out.  So, c’mon.  What can you do?”

Shiro titled his head, considering.  “If we’re talking proficiency in terms of being certified, then I can only use firearms.  Pistol and rifle.”

Lips thin, Lance gave him a narrow look.  “No guns. Hunk and me have guns covered.  That’s our thing.”

“I’m okay with someone else having guns,” Hunk offered.  “Please, feel free to do more of the shooting.  I’m not a super big fan of it.”

Lance made a wounded noise and knocked their shoulders together.  “Betrayal.”

“I don’t want to shoot things!” Hunk shot back.

Snorting at their antics, Pidge eyed him.  “And if we don’t count certifications?”

Shiro shrugged.  “Well, I don’t know, do I?”

The mood of the room dropped like he’d smacked it to the ground.

“Oh,” Lance murmured.  “Shit.  Shiro, I didn’t mean-”

Shaking his head, Shiro shot him a flash of a smile.  “It’s fine, I get what you mean.  I took some basic combat courses, but nothing specialized.  So, sorry, you’re on your own for this one.”

“It’d have to be a close quarters weapon, though,” Pidge mused.  “Otherwise you won’t be able to use your arm, and that’s your go to.”

Keith hummed thoughtfully.  “Come kind of gauntlet, then?  So the hands are matched.”

“That’d be nice, actually,” Shiro mused.  “If only for awkward angles.”

Pidge stuck out her palm, one eye closed like she was aiming.  “It could fire repulsor blasts or something.  Or fly!”

“We have jetpacks,” Keith pointed out.

Hunk shook his head.  “No, she’s right.  Repulsor gloves is definitely a cooler way to fly.  And imagine, like, getting pinned, oh no!  But then Shiro just picks up his hand and they go  _ flying.   _ Doesn’t even have to touch them.”

Sprawling out dramatically on the couch, Lance held out his arm.  “Needs a cool one-liner.  Like... ‘ _ Can you feel my pulse?’” _

“Guys,” Shiro called, brows up.  “Really, now.”  He paused, letting them settle back down.  “I’d have a much better line than that.  ‘You repulse me.’”

“Damn, that is better,” Lance murmured.  “Shit.”

Shiro patted him on the shoulder.  “You would have gotten there.”

Sighing, Keith slumped in his seat.  “This conversation has gotten stupid.”

“Maybe it won’t be a gauntlet,” Hunk mused.  “Maybe it’ll be a whole new arm.”

Blinking slowly, Pidge’s brow furrowed.  “Like, it goes over his arm?”

Lance snorted.  “Or a floppy rubber arm on a stick.”

“Lance got it.” Hunk nodded to him, and they shared a grin.

Keith groaned.  “How would that even help?”

“You could hit people with it,” Hunk replied simply.  “Like a sword.  But an arm.”

Reaching over, Pidge patted Keith on the shoulder.  “Just let them get the silly ideas out, it shouldn’t last long.”

In response, Lance stuck his tongue out at Pidge, while loosely smacking Hunk’s shoulder with a limp arm.  “Fear my might!”

“I have a question,” Shiro said, tone bland.  “Actually, I have several.  But one important one.  What would the bayard do for Voltron?  Give it a third arm?”

Hunk nodded.  “Sure, yeah.  Sounds cool, actually.  It’s a giant robot, it can have as many arms as it wants.  It’d be nice to have a hand with fingers, actually.”

Freezing, Keith suddenly let out a choking noise.  Then he curled in on himself, hand over his mouth.

“You okay there?” Lance called.  “Don’t die.”

When Keith picked his head back up, there were tears in his eyes, and he was shaking with repressed laughter.  “I just..”  He dissolved into snickers again, eyes closed tightly.  “It’d come from the black lion, right?  So I thought... the mouth would open and... just an  _ arm _ would come out.”

There was a brief pause, then Pidge burst into laughter.  “Oh my god, yes!  Just opens wide and an arm shoots out and punches a monster in the face.  Please, that would be amazing.”

“Oh my god,” Lance murmured, voice reverent as he snickered into Hunk’s shoulder, which kept bouncing from his own laughter.  “I would pay so much money to see that.”

Honestly, the image was a little funny, but watching all four of them lose their shit over the stupid image was hilarious.  Shiro leaned back, smirking.  “Or you could use it to flick someone off.  Can’t do that with the lions.”

Lance cackled.  “Stop, ow, my sides.  I can’t breathe.”

“Imagine if we’d had that when we attacked Zarkon’s ship.  We got caught in the beam and just flipped them the bird,” Shiro continued, absolutely merciless.

In response, Pidge’s laughter hitched, and she started to snort instead.  That set Keith off anew, and Hunk curled against Lance, sending them both toppling over.

Leaning back in his chair, Shiro surveyed the chaos he’d created and steepled his fingers with satisfaction.

It wasn’t until after they’d calmed down that Shiro remembered to ask about why it mattered, again.

“We didn’t want to double up,” Lance replied, shrugging.  “Just in case, you know?”

Shiro’s brow furrowed.  “Double up on what?”

Pausing, Hunk frowned at him.  “Really?”

“He won’t figure it out on his own,” Keith assured them, shrugging.  When Shiro shot him a bland look, he just raised his brows.  “You won’t.  I guarantee it.”

Looking between all four of them, Shiro frowned.  After a minute of thought, he shook his head.  “I don’t get it.”

“Do you keep track of the calendar we made?” Pidge asked, voice dry.

Shiro nodded.  “I look every few days, but yes.  Why?”

“It’s December, Shiro,” Keith replied, rolling his eyes.  “Think hard.”

It took a moment, but then it finally hit.  “Oh.  Holiday season.”

“Damn, really?  We thought we were being obvious, here,” Lance replied, eyeing him.  “I figured it was one of those ‘oh I’ll pretend I didn’t figure it out immediately ‘cause I’m a nice guy’ things.  Explains why Keith was so eager to give it away.”

Keith snorted.  “Shiro never remembers holidays.”

“I don’t usually have a reason to,” Shiro replied.

That only got him an amused glance.  “Which is why you went to classes on holidays a solid half a dozen times.  Since I’ve known you.”

“I got distracted!”

Pidge shrugged.  “Well, makes it easier on us.  And now you know, so you won’t have an excuse when the actual day rolls around.”

Paling, Shiro frowned.  “Oh.”  Shit, he had... a couple of weeks?  Ah, hell.

“Good luck, man,” Hunk replied, patting him on the back.  There was an odd look on his face, a mixture of pity and amusement.

Ah, hell.

Well, he’d done it in less time.  Two weeks was actually pretty good for him.

***

On Christmas itself, Shiro was presented with an extra gift, and four smirking paladins.  Inside was a large foam hand, like the kind used at sporting events.  But it was made to look like the black paladin armor, and held up it’s middle finger rather than the pointer.

Coran and Allura had no idea why it made Shiro crack up for a solid five minutes.  


	11. Put a Present Under the Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Butteredonions

This turned out way more complicated than Hunk had thought.

A Secret Santa had, on the front, been an amazing plan.  It meant everyone only had to be responsible for one gift, which was good because they were somewhat limited in terms of resources.  Plus, it was a lot of fun to have that kind of nice secret.

Except then he’d told the others, and they’d agreed.  But then Hunk had offered to randomize who got who, and the  _ exceptions _ had started.

“Don’t do me and Shiro together,” Keith told him plainly.  “We have a pact.”

Brows up, Hunk glanced between them.  “A what?”

Shiro offered a small smile.  “We agreed not to Christmas presents for each other.  Though, the past few years it’s been out of our hands.”  He glanced at Keith wryly, who shrugged.  “Still, I’d like to keep that promise, if possible.”

“Okay,” Hunk replied slowly.  “I can make sure of that.  Anything else?”

Pidge raised her hand.  “I don’t think we should get one another either, Hunk.  We share our project space.”

Oh, right.  Hunk nodded and rubbed his forehead.  “Right.  That’d ruin the surprise pretty well, huh?”  

Glancing around, he considered again.  Much as he loved his best friend, Lance probably shouldn’t get Keith.  It would be too big a temptation, and while Lance would probably rise above it, Hunk was a big believer in not pushing his luck.  Maybe Allura too, come to think of it.  Just in case.  

And maybe it was better to make sure Shiro got Allura or Coran, now that he thought about it.  It seemed like the kind of thing that would bother him, to get something for one of them and not all of them, even when everyone else was doing it.  Then if Shiro broke and got presents for everyone, it would make the rest of them feel bad for only doing one...

Yeah, okay, this was definitely going to take some planning.

Hunk sighed.  “I’ll just work on it.  We still want to try?”

“Yeah,” Lance replied, lounging back in his seat.  “It’s an awesome idea.”

Nodding in agreement, Pidge smiled.  “I like it too.  It’s clever.”

“I have one concern,” Coran interjected.  When Hunk looked over at him, he offered a wry smile.  “What’s a ‘Santa’ and why does it need to be secret?”

***

In the end, Hunk just makes the circle by hand.  He tried to randomize it with the different variables, but it was taking forever and sometimes just doing it himself was best.

So on document, under layers of protection just in case Pidge got curious, was the list:

Coran > Hunk > Keith > Pidge > Shiro > Allura > Lance > Coran

It seemed like the fairest call, and it fit in everyone’s exceptions.

And next year, this was going to be someone else’s problem.  This was supposed to be a fun mood lifter and Hunk had just gotten stressed.

Shaking his head, Hunk sent out an email to everyone individually about their assignments, with an extra reminder not to tell anyone who they got, period.  After all, process of elimination meant that someone could figure out who had them just by who was free to talk about it.

And then Hunk deleted the immediate slew of messages from Lance begging to know who had gotten him.  

_ ‘It’s not Keith, right?  You’re my buddy, you have my back.  Is it you?’ _

Chin up, Hunk only replied ‘I keep my secrets to the grave’, and rolled his eyes at the avalanche of sad emojis that followed.

Lance would find out soon enough.

***

“Alright,” Shiro called, seated serenely on the couch.  His voice was calm, but his natural hand was clutching the wrapper with surprising force.  “Are we ready to go?”

Hunk eyed him, a little amused, and wondered what could have him so anxious.  “Yeah.  We can start.  Anybody want to be first?”

Hand shooting up, Lance practically bounced in place.  “Oh!  I will.  Have this.”  He held his package above his head, wrapped in shimmering navy blue with a gigantic white bow on top.  “This is for Coran.”

“For me?” Coran looked delighted as he took the present from Lance, happily pulling off the bow and sticking it on top of his head.

Laughing, Lance leaned back in his chair.  “Looks good, but it might interfere with the present.”

That made Coran pause in interest, and he finally unwrapped the present properly, carefully untaping the paper, rather than ripping it open like Lance helpfully suggested.  Inside was a carefully folded mound of fabric.  When Coran held it open, it proved to be a dark blue cloak.

Making a soft noise of appreciation, Coran ran his hand over the fabric.  “It’s quite handsome,” he murmured, lips curled up.

“It should clip right on,” Lance said.  “Like Allura’s.  You guys always seem to get cold quicker, so I thought an extra layer would help.  Plus, a badass cloak is totally your style.  Try it.”

The clock clipped on in the same way the strip of blue over Coran’s shoulders did, much like Allura’s cape, and then settled over him in a warm-looking veil.  When Lance gestured excitedly, Coran took off the bow and pulled on the hood as well.  “Oh!  It’s padded at the ears.  That’s very thoughtful.”

“I thought about doing earmuffs with it, but I couldn’t get the tips covered right,” Lance replied, shrugging.  “So this seemed better.  You guys always get kind of tense and shivery when it gets colder, so I figured this would be nice.”

Coran wrapped himself in it, smiling warmly.  “It’s lovely.  And suits me, I think.”  

Nodding, Hunk leaned back in the couch.  “Definitely.  And well made.  Did you use the machines for that, Lance?”

“Hell no,” Lance scoffed.  “Hand-made always.  Your machines can fight me.”

That made Pidge snicker.  “Don’t pick a fight you can’t win.”

Punching the air dramatically, Lance dodged around like he was fighting an imaginary boxer.  “I can win.  With the power of love.  Screw your robots.”

Before Pidge could launch into a treatise on behalf of all robots everywhere, Shiro rested a hand on her shoulder.  “Hunk, did you plan to do giftee presents their gift next?”

Recognizing the ploy, Hunk shifted forward, blocking Lance and Pidge from each other.  “Yeah, seems like the best method.  You ready, Coran?”

“Not quite.”  Stepping forward, Coran pulled Lance into a one-armed hug.  “Thank you, Lance.  There, now I am.”  With that, he took out a box and presented it to Hunk with a flourish.  “For you.”

Beaming, Hunk took the present.  It wasn’t like he was surprised, but it still made his heart thump gleefully to be handed a gift, especially one that looked so large.

When he took it, his hands jerked up, and it took Hunk a moment to realize it was because he’d expected it to be heavy from the size.  But it felt like it was empty.

With one quick confused look at Coran, who only beamed back, Hunk lifted the lid.

Inside was a single key.

Picking it up, Hunk turned it over in his hands.  “I didn’t know we needed keys to get in anywhere.”

“You don’t,” Coran agreed.  “It’s symbolic.  Read the side of it.”  And because it was small and the lighting was bad, Hunk had to squint hard, but then he recognized it was a code.  An entrance code.

When he looked up at Coran again, he got a beaming smile.  “It’s for the back lab.”

Hunk’s breath caught in a delighted gasp.  This was for...?

“Really?”  When Coran laughed and nodded, Hunk held the key up.  “Yes!  Thank you!”

Glancing between them both, and then taking in Pidge’s wide-eyed awe, Shiro tilted his head.  “Uh, what’s the significance of the back lab?”

“It’s where they keep the good stuff,” Pidge breathed.  “Experimental stuff.  Exploding stuff.”

Eyes wide, Shiro shot Coran a look.

Coran flapped a hand.  “Hunk has proven himself resourceful and reasonable, and I know I can trust him with the codes.  And that includes being careful who he allows in with him, and not giving the code away without asking.”

Nodding, Hunk clutched the key to his chest.  “Promise.”  He and Pidge shared a significant, toothy grin.  “Thank you, Coran.  It means a lot.”

“Not a problem at all,” Coran replied.  “You’ve more than earned it, with everything you’ve taken on.”

Slipping the key into his vest pocket, Hunk beamed at him and held out his arms.  Coran hugged him tightly, clapping him on the back, then sat down and looked very pleased with himself.

One of Hunk’s hands still rested over his pocket, and he couldn’t stop grinning.  With the other, he handed over a package to Keith.  “For you.”

Keith took it gently, like he was surprised by its very existence.  Then he carefully removed the paper, also without ripping it.  He, too, ignored Lance’s pained groans.

Inside was some kind of kit.  Keith tilted his head, looking it over.  Inside was all kinds of items, from small hand tools to lines of what looked like thread, and some kind of spray.  “I don’t know if I understand.”

“It’s a care kit,” Hunk replied warmly.  “It has tools for repairing just about anything small, from devices to clothing.  And I added some extra items, such as polish that should work on that knife, too.”

Keith stiffened at the mention of it, like he was afraid Hunk was going to make some kind of comment.  But instead he just continued to smile, and Keith relaxed.  “That’s... I appreciate that a lot, actually.”  His eyes were warm as he ran his fingers over the different items, picking each one up and carefully inspecting it.

Smiling back, Hunk patted him on the shoulder.  “I figured you’re used to taking care of things yourself, usually.  And with so many of these machines, it’s difficult to use them until you’ve had some form of training, or you have to ask for help.  So this will help with that.”

Even with his head ducked, Keith couldn’t hide his pleased smile.  “I appreciate that.  Thank you.”

“Not a problem at all,” Hunk replied.  He held his arm up just slightly, barely passed his body, in subtle invitation.  After a moment, Keith leaned into him.  He pulled back quickly, but they were both smiling..

Keith carefully packed the kit back up and set it down on the coffee table, double checking that it was closed and safe.  Then he took the gift bag out of his lap and handed it over to Pidge.  “This is yours.”

Perking, Pidge took it and dug inside, playfully tossing one of the wads of tissue paper at Lance when he continued to complain about the lack of proper lack of unwrapping.  There had to be several items inside, because they clacked together while she dug, but Pidge only pulled out one first.  It looked like some kind of box with strange markings and all kinds of compartments.

Scooting closer, Keith ran his finger along one side of it, and the whole thing shifted into a new configuration.  “It’s an Altean puzzle game.  They all are.  Well, games.  Some aren’t Altean, but they were in the computers.”

“Oh,” Pidge breathed, eyes wide behind her classes.  “That’s so cool.”  She copied the motion, or at least tried to, but the box moved in a different way this time, folding in on itself.  When her fingers brushed against the opposite side, it moved in third pattern.  “What’s the objective?”

Keith smirked.  “I can tell you, but I think you’ll have more fun figuring it out yourself.”

From Pidge’s sudden sharp smile, that was the right answer.  “Perfect.”

“And I had Coran put a lock on the answers in the computer,” Keith added blandly, smirk widening when she froze.  “Just in case you were tempted.  I know you can get passed it, but that’s not fun.”

Pidge sighed.  “Yeah, probably.  I’ll figure it out anyway.”  And she settled back in the couch, the first puzzle in her lap, knocking her shoulder with Keith.  “Thanks.”

Nodding back, Keith watched her work with open curiosity.

After a moment of silence, Hunk cleared his throat.  “Pidge, you need to...”

“Oh, right.”  Pidge looked up from the puzzle and used her foot to push the box over to Shiro.  “This is for you.  Merry Christmas.”

Snorting quietly at how she refused to take her hands off the new toy, Shiro bent down to pick up the box, then paused.  “That’s heavier than I thought.”

“Mhmm,” Pidge agreed dryly, her fingers still idly working on her present.

Finally, Shiro gave up and started to unwrap the box.  With a sideways glance at Lance, he carefully undid the tape and unfolded the paper.

Lance groaned.  “You all suck at this.”  When Hunk patted his shoulder, he flopped over dramatically.  “You wound me.”

“Very sorry,” Shiro replied, tone bone dry.  “Deeply.”  Once the paper was all off, he lifted the top.  Then he paused.  “What...?”

Smirking, Pidge pulled out a remote from her pocket and pressed a button.

Whatever was inside the box let out a metallic noise like a clap, then climbed out.

It was a robot.  Specifically, a robot dog.  About the size of a terrier and the shape of a doberman, it hopped up onto the couch and sat next to Shiro.

“I thought you’d appreciate a hand,” Pidge told Shiro, grinning at his slick-jawed amazement.  “It’s not super tricked out, or anything.  Mostly it can move around, act at least a little like a dog, and it can pass on recorded messages.  It can also be sent to fetch items or people, if you’re so inclined. Also, cuddles.”

The little dog let out another of those metallic noises and rested its head on Shiro’s lap, apparently quite sure who it was for.

“This is amazing,” Shiro murmured, running the fingers of his natural hand along the perky ear.  The puppy leaned into touch, the mechanics whirring inside much like Shiro’s own metal arm.  “Thank you.”

Watching him with open amusement, Pidge nodded.  “No problem.  Robots make awesome companions, right?  And we put so much effort into prototypes, I figured we’d get some alternative use out of it.”  Then her lips curled up.  “We need to set a name.”

Pausing, Shiro glanced between Pidge and the dog.  “Oh.  Um.”

Lance leaned forward.  “Name it Lion.  Or Blackie.”

That only made Shiro snort.  “How about no.  No need to make things confusing.  I don’t want to be going down the hall and calling for Lion before a mission.”

“That doesn’t rule out Blackie,” Hunk pointed out, amused.  “Or you could go for Silver.  Silver Shirogane.”  At Shiro’s bland look, he only laughed and shrugged.  

Keith frowned thoughtfully, seeming to take the idea seriously.  “Silver wouldn’t be confusing.  And it’s an accurate name.”

Surveying all of them, Shiro sighed.  “Saint.  As in Saint Nick.”

“Cutesy,” Lance pronounced looking amused.  “Of course.”

Shiro stared him down.  “I get to name my dog.  Saint.”

“Saint it is,” Pidge replied easily, pulling over her pad and inputting the name.  

The little dog let out another little clap-bark, as if acknowledging the change, then shoved its head into Shiro’s hands for more petting.  He let out a noise like a coo and obliged, beaming.

“Thanks,” Shiro murmured again, very warm.  And from the set of his shoulders and the almost embarrassed pleasure, Shiro had probably figured out what Pidge had been thinking, when she ran the idea passed Hunk for help.

It was the closest they were going to get for a service dog for Shiro.  It wasn’t exact, but they could get something like it.

Story of their space-lives.

Shiro gave Saint one last scratch on its (his?) ears, then took a deep breath.  It was pretty clear he was collecting himself, and Allura eyed him with amusement.  “If you need a moment with your pet, I’m sure Lance and I can wait.”

Snorting, Lance’s brows went up.  “Speak for yourself.”

Before Allura could do more than shoot Lance a look, Shiro shook his head.  “No, I’ll have plenty of time later.  It’s not fair to make you wait.”  He stood, untangling himself from his present, and then stepped over to Allura’s chair.  “Mine has two parts.  This is the first.”

Brows up in curiosity, Allura took the long, flat box.  The lid had been wrapped separately from the box, so she was able to pop it off.  Inside were what at first glance looked like flowers.  Hunk had to strain in his seat to see that it was actually a variety of hairclips and bands, with realistic looking flowers attached.  “Coran mentioned these tend to break on you, so I thought some extras would be useful.  And, well, I wanted a physical gift to unwrap, since the other part isn’t something I could hand you.”

Taking one of the bands out, Allura pulled her hair back up and twisted it until a bun, tying it off with quick efficiency, with such ease that it had to involve at least some minor shapeshifting.  Now that it was out of the box, Hunk could tell it was made to look like those Juniberry flowers.  “This is a thoughtful present, but I’m curious as to the other part, now.”

Shiro gave a small smile.  “Well, you mentioned an interest in learning to use the bike I’ve been fixing. It’s ready now, and I figured I could give you lessons.  I’m sure it won’t take you long, but you should definitely learn, when we get the chance. It’s a useful skill.”

The clips had earned him a soft smile, probably at the motif, but the promise of lessons made Allura outright grin.  “You’re right, it was be irresponsible of us not to make sure I have such a skill,” she replied, something almost vicious in her tone.  “And considering what I’ve heard from you and Keith, I’m sure you have the skills to teach me.”

That made Shiro’s smile go shark-line.  “I’m glad you agree.”

“This is a terrible idea,” Pidge muttered, so quietly Hunk almost didn’t hear.

But he deeply agreed.  While Shiro and Allura were both surface level reasonable, they didn’t seem to have any mutual concept of ‘enough’.

“Thank you, Shiro,” Allura replied, pulling him into a hug.  He was stiff for just a moment, then returned the gesture.  “For both of them.  They’re very thoughtful.”

Shiro nodded back, expression back to warm instead of vaguely frightening.  “I’m glad.”  He sat back down, and Saint bounded into his lap, making him grunt.  It was probably heavy.

“Alright, last and least least,” Lance announced.  He fluttered his lashes at Allura.  “I accept Christmas kisses as gifts.”

Allura snorted, thankfully amused rather than annoyed.  “You’ll be pleased to know I wrapped yours,” she told him, standing up and dropping it in his lap.  “I was going to do one of the bags for gifts.”

Beaming, Lance nodded.  “Yes.  Now you all get to see how it’s done.”  He dug his fingers into the paper and ripped it off like a bear with a trash bag, then dug in gleefully.

Inside the box was what reminded Hunk of a jewelry box.  When Lance flipped it open, it was full of a variety of bottles and pads.  “I had to do some research for what would be safe on your skin.  Many things that work for Alteans are not a good mix for humans.  So mind the instructions.  But all of this should work for you.”

Lance gasped, eyes wide, and he clutched the whole thing to his chest.  “Thank you,” he murmured, looking honestly touched.  And Hunk knew that part of the reason Lance was so attached to his beauty regime was the ritual of it, so having a large, on-hand supply would only do him well, especially since he no longer had to experiment and hope for the best.

When he didn’t say more, Allura patted his shoulder.  “You’ve very welcome.”  As she sat down, she took one of the clips in her hands and ran her fingers over it, eyes distant and not quite misty.

Hunk looked around, watching Shiro and Pidge bend over the puzzle, Saint pawing at it curiously.  Coran was petting the cloak and watching Allura twist the band around her fingers, while Lance carefully opened each bottle and smelled the contents.

Yeah, this had been more complicated than he’d thought.

But it had been an amazing idea.


	12. Time to Celebrate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Mumblefox
> 
> And yes, this chapter is the one to get a N'Sync song lyric. Because Lance.

Lance hadn’t seen anyone all day.

That wasn’t super unusual on a day off.  The team had more than a few introverts, after all, and normally by the time they got a break, they were all pretty thoroughly sick of each other and needed alone time.

That went double for Pidge and Keith.  Maybe triple.  And since the last stretch of time since a break had involved a week long mission through a nasty smelling bog, they were all pretty happy to take a day.

Except it was nearly the end of the day, and Lance hadn’t seen  _ anyone. _

No group lunch, no calling for dinner, no running into people in the halls.  Nadda.

Which also meant Lance hadn’t heard a single peep about the big post-dinner pseudo-holiday not-party they’d planned for that night.

If everyone had forgotten...

Well, Lance wouldn’t exactly blame them.  Yesterday had been exhausting, and he’d slept a solid half the day away in response.  But...

But Lance had been looking forward to it, that was all.  If the team didn’t want to do it anymore, he’d understand.  Especially since, with the long missions looming, they’d agreed presents would be another time.  There was no real driving force that said they had to do it right now.

Still.

Or...

Okay, no.  If they’d had the not-party anyway, they would have called Lance.  He knew that.   _ Knew  _ it.  They weren’t like that.  Besides, none of them were that big of party people.  It was way, way more likely it’d just slipped everyone’s mind.

But now that the thought had wormed it’s way into his head, Lance found himself just a bit nervous.

Sighing, Lance kicked his feet over the side of his bed, considering.  It was a stupid thought.  It wasn’t real.

But a quick walk around the main areas wouldn’t hurt anything?  Then, if he happened to run into anyone, he could casually bring up the party and see.

So, there.  Casual.  No big deal.  Just to see.

...Lance wasn’t even managing to fool himself.

Hopping off his bed, he slipped his hands into his pockets and headed out into the hallway.  Everyone’s doors were closed, but that wasn’t unusual either.  Hunk was the only one who usually left his open, but not when he was out, and that was pretty often.

Really, it didn’t mean anything.

For lack of a better direction, Lance headed toward the main sections of the castle.  The control room was empty, which was good, but slightly worrying.  It was where he at least expected to find Allura or Coran.  Then again, they weren’t flying at the moment, so no one needed to be there.

But now Lance was starting to wonder if anyone was around at all.

Walking faster now, he ducked into the kitchen, and found no one there.  Then, out of desperation, he headed to the training room.  At least Shiro or Keith should be there.

Nothing.

Hunk and Pidge’s lab?

Nothing, though some of the machines were still compiling, so they had to be here recently. (And that took abduction off the list, at least.  ...Probably.)

(Well, who knew, in their lives.)

As Lance started to head back to their rooms, determined to knock on doors until someone answered, he heard voices.

Laughter.

Of multiple people.

And there was that insecurity, again.

Lance followed the noise, and paused by the rec room, listening in.

“-long are we going to wait around?” Keith asked, sighing.

“You heard how excited he was.  He’ll be around eventually.”  That was Pidge, dismissive and relaxed.  “This whole thing was at least 70 percent his idea.”

Hunk sighed.  “Still, maybe we should call him?”

“That’ll ruin the surprise!”

Allura huffed.  “I still don’t understand this ritual.”

“It’s really not anything specific,” Shiro replied blandly.  “Pidge found the idea online-”

“On what line?” Coran asked.

Okay, what the hell?

Lance stepped into the doorway, brow furrowed.  “What’s going-”

Everyone was already waiting, the snacks and drinks of a not-party already prepared.  It looked exactly like what he’d expected to do this afternoon, except...

Except that everyone was wearing the same outfit.

Lance’s outfit.

“There he is!” Pidge raised her arms, the too-long sleeves of the jackets crumpling down to her shoulders.  “Finally.”

Blinking slowly, Lance shook his head.  “I still don’t understand.”

“It’s a costume party,” Shiro informed him dryly.  They must have just copied Lance’s jacket exactly, because it stretched over his shoulders, and looked about ready to tear.  “Of you.  Apparently.”

For a moment, Lance started to stare. Then he cracked up.  “Really?  That stupid old joke?”

“I figured you’d appreciate it, dork that you are,” Pidge replied, lips curled up at the edge.

Lance shook his head.  He considered commenting on his worries, then shrugged it off.  He’d known it wasn’t true, and the fact that they were planning the party around him was proof enough of that.

Hell, thinking of it like that made his chest feel a little warm and bubbly.

Keith leaned back in his chair, fiddling with his fingerless gloves.  Apparently he hadn’t given up wearing them, despite no doubt being bothered into it.  “Are we still doing the bad pick-up line contest?”

“ _ Bad _ pick-up line?” Lance demanded.  But he couldn’t put any real fire in his voice, possibly because he was grinning too hard.

Keith just stared back, his brows raising.

“We’ll call them creative,” Shiro replied diplomatically, watching the both of them carefully.

Pidge snorted, which made it clear enough which side of the argument she agreed with.

Nodding, Coran puffed out his chest.  “I certainly hope so!  I have a few I was looking forward to sharing.  I believe I have this contest won before it even begins.”

Lance rocked back on his heels, looking over the group of them,  Despite the jokes and the smiles, there was just a hint of caution to the room.  Probably, they were watching to make sure he didn’t take offense to the whole idea.

Which, yeah, he could drag it out and make them wonder, but it was a fun idea, so he’d let them off the hook.

“Okay, if you’re going to do this, you know what you have to do,” Lance told them, flashing them his own smile.

Hunk groaned, as Allura and Coran shared a confused look.  “Do what?” Allura asked, like she wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.

It took five tries, mostly because Keith spent the first three stubbornly keeping his arms crossed, but Lance did get a picture of everyone in his outfit, dabbing together.

It was the background image of his room’s console for the next year.


	13. Making a List

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Andy

Lance leaned back in his chair, a notepad in his lap and his bed covered in the remains of the gift-giving process.  He was going to be finding little bits of glitter and ribbon in his sheets for weeks, but it was so worth it.

Because Lance had a reputation to uphold.  And that was being the best damn gift-giver ever.  Period.  But that wasn’t an easily won title.  While Keith may be his rival in piloting, Hunk was the ultimate opponent in the art of giving.

Lance would never forget the indignity of The Great Second Year of the Garrison Christmas Extravaganza, where he’d gotten Hunk a variety of ingredients, CDs and shark-shaped oven mitts for use in his stress-baking sessions after finals week.  

In return, Hunk had gotten him a gorgeous ornament shaped like a Cuban pygmy-owl.  It was the favorite bird of his grandfather, who had just passed a few months previous.

Lance had tried over that gift.

And now he would not be outdone again.  Not like that.

Now, though, Lance didn’t just need to get a perfect gift for Hunk.  Now he had to get one for everyone.  Not only because the team deserved it, considering how the past few months had been, but because Hunk certainly would do something sweet and amazing, and Lance refused to break under the challenge.

There was nothing more magical than that quiet moment of  _ ‘oh’ _ , where the person didn’t realize that they’d needed something, or that others had noticed their need.  Where the giftee felt loved and cared for, where they were reminded they weren’t an island, weren’t alone.

Lance as going to get one of those for everyone or he was going to die trying.

He’d started with Hunk, because he was simultaneously the easiest, since Lance knew him best, and the hardest, because Hunk the cross-gift would be the best.  But Lance had started to sneak in cuttings and seedlings of every plant he could find in Altean books on known planets, and he’d talked to Coran about setting up a garden room.  With a little set-up for variable climates and watering rates, plus the effort of sneaking in and lugging around fertilizer, it had started growing up nicely.

Actually, it went a little too well, because apparently alien fertilizer was really, really damn good.  So the whole place was just a bit overgrown.  But that added to the charm, really, and Lance was pretty damn sure that if Hunk didn’t enjoy bringing the place back to order, someone else would.  Worse came to worse, he’d sic Shiro on it, and in an hour the plants would be standing rank-and-file and saluting.

But since not unwrapping something was crazy lame, Hunk got a box with a small variety of smaller herbs and flowers for his room.  Which would be lovely, and then totally outplayed by himself, because Lance was that damn good.

The Alteans had been next, mostly because it was a joint venture.  Part of it was all Lance - he had gotten Coran a fluffy bathrobe, made a batch of his Nunvil Face Cream Variant, and brushed up on his massage skills, and now he was going to give him a One Free Day Off card.  Because Coran did a lot.  So much.  They could handle things for a day (probably), and so Lance was going to make sure he took some time off.

Allura could probably use the same thing, but given her unique set of abilities with the castle, it was even less likely he could get her to take one.  So Lance had decided to think outside the box for her, and in the process remembered just how connected Allura and the mice were.  Making them more comfortable would make her more comfortable.  So he’d whipped up a new set of levels and tunnels and beds for them, with some quick help from Hunk on the design, as well as looked up what they ate on the computers and figured out what would work as fun treats.  Hopefully, the mice having a nice place to curl up and relax would result in a more relaxed Allura too.

The actual joint project was between Lance and Pidge.  They’d rigged up a comprehensive Altean dictionary, with translations to both English and Spanish.  Lance was better at languages that didn’t involve 1s and 0s, so he’d done the bulk of that work, figuring out how the grammars of the different languages changed from one to the other.  Then Pidge had taken his work and rigged a system of computers.  

If one of those computers failed to check in - say, the castle had been destroyed - then the computers would beam down as many copies of that dictionary not only to Earth libraries, but any place they had access to.

No matter what happened to the castle, they would keep the Altean language alive as best they could.

Lance thought they’d appreciate that more than any physical gifts.

So that was that, and then Lance had three to go.

At first, Lance had a few ideas for Pidge.  Not because any of them weren’t good, but he wasn’t sure how feasible the first one was.  

Because what he wanted to get Pidge was Rover.  Not the prototype Hunk and her were still working on, not some model or copy, but the original one.  The problem being that they’d never found Rover again.  They’d found the Galra soldier (and Lance was, guiltily, glad they’d been told about that long after he’d been, ahem, cleaned up.  When he’d asked Coran, he’d reassured Lance that there were systems for that, so no one had to be specifically responsible for it.  If that was true or a nice lie, he wasn’t sure, but he wanted to believe it was accurate.)

But Rover hadn’t been recovered.  And considering how close the little bot had been to some seriously high voltage energy cores, it was all too possible he’d fallen into it and was just... gone.  But there were so many other little nooks and crannies down that long stretch that it had been worth a look.  Or two.  Or half a dozen.

Success had come when Lance had stopped trying to check the various levels along the core and just hooked himself up to the side and dropped down on a line.  It was something he was never going to let anyone know he’d done, because it was almost stupidly dangerous but, well, that was the gift he wanted to give.  So there.  

Rover was in nasty shape, dented and without so much as a flicker of response.  But Lance had scanned in everything about the lil guy that he could, and done at least a little bit of a patch job, so he looked less dead-ish.  Pidge could decide if she wanted to transfer him to a new body, fix up the new one, keep working on the new prototypes and just have something to reminder of him.  For now, Lance figured he’d done enough.

That left Shiro and Keith who were, honestly, the hardest, for similar but not identical reasons.  Lance just didn’t know a lot about either of their day to day lives, which was  _ weird _ considering they lived in each other’s pockets.  With Shiro, it seems to be somewhat deliberate.  Once in awhile he’d drop a detail about himself, but he played things really close to the chest, considering how open he seemed to be.  And Keith, well, Lance wasn’t totally sure Keith had a lot of those little details and interests.  For the most part, his skills seemed to be focused around survival and necessity.

Which, okay, Lance got why they were like that.  It just made it hard to get them Christmas presents.

In the end, it was kind of cheating, but Lance decided to get them a joint present.  

It was obvious that Shiro and Keith were friends, but as far as Lance could tell, they didn’t get much time to hang out.  And part of that might be personality, since Lance sure as hell made time for Hunk at any and all opportunities.  But part of it was also just that they didn’t seem to have the chance, what with how they all taxed Shiro’s time.

So what Lance made first was a big sign, like the construction ones along the roads, that read ‘No Work Zone’.  That’s what he wrapped up.

After, Lance convinced Coran to help him buy a couple of junk speed bikes.  The kind that technically worked, if you were patient and didn’t exactly need reliability, but that wouldn’t be simple to fix up and upgrade.  Those he stored in a room with a magnet already attached to hold the sign.  And when it was up, that would be it.  Unless it was a big emergency, no one was going to bug Shiro and Keith.  Period.  Lance would enforce that himself, if he had to.

And then Lance may have converted some of the lower floors into a race course.  Which?  Not a big deal, actually.  No one was using it.  No one lived down there now, and it wasn’t anything important.  Converting it hadn’t even been hard.  He just moved some stuff out of the way and painted a start and finish line.  Easy.

In a way, it was more of a Shiro present, since it was about getting him to relax and take a break.  But Lance figured that was also the best thing he could do for Keith - alone time with his friend, and less time spent hovering a step behind Shiro, tense on his behalf.

Grinning to himself, Lance leaned back in his chair.

This year, he would be the undisputed champion.  The best of the best.  This would be the year he proved, once and for all, who the superior gift giver was.

And that, Lance thought, was what the holiday was all about.

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoyed? I'm always taking requests at Bosstoaster.tumblr.com. Come say hi!


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